Ætharr of Calador, Book 4 The Bane of Ætharr
by Bob Stage
Summary: Ætharr has secured his position as Ealdor, but his heart is restless, and his ambitions will lead him once again to war. Judos has his loyalty and friendship to Ætharr put to the test as their story is weaved in with those of Salamandastron and Redwall. Author's note After more than five years working at it on-and-off, the "Ætharr of Calador" series has been completed.
1. Chapter 1

**Ætharr of Calador**

Book Four: The Bane of Ætharr

_Note- I do not own Redwall, songs by the Doors, Lord of the Rings, The Godfather, or Oliver Stone's film "Alexander"_

**Prologue**

"I have come to believe,' Judos stated, 'that every one of us is fated to be faced with a bane in our lives."

He paced along, weaving in between the students as he spoke. They had been with him now for two seasons. It was remarkable to Judos that this was so. They had learned much, making great progress in their education. Soon they would be learning how to use weapons rather than mere wrestling.

It seemed odd to Judos, who taught these little pupils, to see that they were no longer as little as before. They were taller, fitter, and spoke with more confidence. As soon as they hit adolescence they would lose their unbroken voices and would get even bigger. Judos smiled, thinking that he would always remember the time when he could pick them up in his paws if he wanted to.

Though indeed, some of them were already too big to carry. Nearchus, the once chubby little son of the mighty Craterus, was losing weight with the wrestling, but Judos could see that he would be husky for most of his life. Meleager and Kerouac, Ptolemy's sons, had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, inherited from their father, and had a fierce brotherly competition between them. Ælfhere was growing tall, and was even looking a lot like his father Ædall. Carolis, Cynefrid's son, was preparing to end his studies and go home to his parents permanently. Judos was proud of him, proud of all the youngsters

Of course, he was especially fond of Ætharr's sons. They had changed along with everyone else, and Judos had enjoyed getting to know them as they grew up.

Ædron was still filled with a child-like pride, but Judos was confidant that he would out-grow it and turn it into a warrior's pride. He was fit and eager to compete, which showed that he would not be overly prudent, though he had not built as much on his intelligence as Judos had hoped.

Lorcan was physically the superior of his brothers. The strength of the Falcarragh and Calador weasels coursed in his still very young veins, and Judos could tell that he would be a mighty warrior.

But it was Ædelmær that fascinated him the most. He had always seemed frail in body, but his intelligence was certainly something to be remarked on. He participated actively in discussions, far more than some of the others, and he thought things out before speaking.

Interestingly, he did not become arrogant from it. He was still bogged down from the troubles with his size, and his self-consciousness negated any excess pride in his education. Judos would have thought that Ædelmær would hate his brothers for being better than him physically, but the third son of Ætharr did not begrudge his brothers: he would silently blame himself instead, and try to do better. Judos worried for him, but tried not to show it.

Judos could see that friendships were forming amongst the group. Nearchus and Ædron were becoming fast friends, and the Heir would often pick the son of Craterus as a partner as opposed to his brothers. Ædelmær would often sit with the two sons of Ptolemy, for indeed, these three were the most intelligent in the group, and paid most attention to Judos during his lectures.

"I have come to believe,' Judos stated again for effect, 'that every one of us is fated to be faced with a bane in our lives."

He paused, letting it sink into the group, and then spoke again, "In history, we can see that this trend is seen among the greatest of conquerors, down to the simplest, most honest farmer. Everyone is faced with a great bane in their lives, and they can either overcome it, or be destroyed by it. Sometimes, we are meant to be destroyed by our banes. Can anyone think of such an example?"

Meleager lifted his hand, "Aleksandros, who died at a young age, unable to fulfill his dream of securing his empire."

Judos nodded, "That is disputable, of course, for one can say that it was the death of his beloved that broke his heart."

He looked at the others, "But that is ancient history. How about something closer to us?"

Ædelmær raised his paw, "The bane of Martin the Warrior's life was the death of Rose, his beloved."

Judos nodded, astounded that the little weasel had remembered that from his lessons, "Very good. Someone else?"

Antigonus raised his paw, "The bane of Keld's life was that he betrayed his country."

Judos stiffened suddenly. Keld had been murdered for reasons not publicly stated. The public believed that he had been a co-conspirator with his fellow theign Æđelstan, but in truth, he had been innocent of open betrayal. He had merely been a complainer, an overly cautious creature, who disliked Ætharr. It was the first time that Judos had seen the dark nature of Ætharr given reign.

He recovered his posture quickly, "Yes that is certainly an example of a bane."

A third student raised his paw, "The bane of Oorlog's life was to make an enemy out of Ætharr."

Judos nodded. Oorlog's defeat at the Battle of Verfluchtes Land was fast becoming a legend in Calador. Ætharr had organized the leaders of the Falcarragh and the Vireo, together with some Hunan who knew to change sides, and crushed the Millar and the Hunan in a terrifying battle that was fought in a place already riddled with centuries of the dead.

Judos clapped his paws together, "Well, now the time has come for lunch. Come back here in an hour."

The weasels obeyed, silently putting their notes away and heading out of the hall that made up the large part of Judos' manor. He was a theign, one of the nobles that ruled plots of Calador lands, and he had been appointed by Ætharr after the war.

Judos stretched and went to drink from a tankard of water left on the great table. Normally the hall was meant for feasting, councils, or gatherings, but Judos thought it served well as a classroom.

Then an adult's voice suddenly spoke in a quiet, tone, "And the bane of your life was to be an otter in a land of weasels."

Judos turned around. It was Selma, his most loyal servant, and whom he was most fond of. She was around his age and the two of them had deep feelings for each other that were doomed to fail due to the fact that he was an otter and she a weasel. However, they had built up a friendship of deep respect for each other, and Judos found her a very intelligent and shrewd companion and aide.

Judos smiled faintly, partly out of happiness to see Selma, but also in worry about what she had said, "I hope that is not my bane."

Selma raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

Judos paused, and spoke, "Because then my bane would be to have met Ætharr."


	2. Chapter 2

**1**

Oakfur, Lord of Salamandastron, died in his sleep on the fifteenth night since his accident.

He had clung to life for a long time, so many reckoned. Oakfur had ever been resilient in the face of trouble, and would not give up even if it killed him, which is of course exactly what happened.

He was laid to rest with honours befitting a wise and noble Badger Lord, as Oakfur had been to Salamandastron. He had won the loyalty of the hares countless times over, and was now leaving them to pass into the Dark Forest, where his sires would welcome him into their midst.

His funeral was magnificent. He was set in his finest armour, laid down in his place as a former Badger Lord of Salamandastron. Hundreds of Badger Lords had died and been laid to rest in the mountain. Their names lived on in the dark caverns and memories of those who dwelled there. Some lords had been burned, and had their ashes laid in secret places. Others had been buried on the mountain slope. Most, like Oakfur now, were laid in full armour to guard the mountain forever.

Roaveen had kept a straight face, grim with suppressed emotion, and to look upon his face was to see a place of no mirth. He stood aside, all in black, and said not a word, not even when he was asked to speak about his father.

Korari was far more open with his feelings. Tears flowed down his cheeks, and his voice was constricted in grief as he bade his father good bye for the last time.

Some hares had whispered that Thornback should be summoned back to the mountain to give his farewell to a father, but it was decided a bad idea. Thornback had made his goodbye to his father alone, and had immediately left the mountain the next day. No one knew what Thornback had said to his father, for neither ever mentioned it to anyone.

What even fewer hares knew was that Thornback had met with his father again, just before leaving the mountain. He had been called upon to hear his father's farewell to his second son.

"" "" "" "" "" "" " """ "" "" """ " ""

When Thornback had spoken his piece, he had left immediately, not giving his father a chance to speak what was on his mind. However, if Thornback had waited that day to hear his father's piece, then he would have been disappointed. Oakfur had been shocked by what his son had said to him. It had been so unlike the Thornback that had left the mountain in a proud rage. This was his second son grown up, and it had dismembered what he had been about to say.

So, when Thornback got up and left, Oakfur had not questioned it. He had lain in his bed and had been unaware of anything else. He was still thinking it over as Thornback and Roaveen had spoken for the last time, or so they thought.

After a while, Oakfur, past all his emotions, felt horribly cheated and regretful. His son had not matured as much as either of them had thought: for he had not allowed his father a chance to give his own farewell.

The next day, Oakfur had sent for Thornback as quickly as possible. Thornback came grudgingly, but knew that he was obligated to hear what his father had to say. However, it was a problem for Thornback because he knew he had made a serious error in not hearing what his father had to say. It was, after all, his father that had wanted to say something. Thornback had lost face and he knew it would be easy for his father to criticize him now.

So it was a stone-faced Thornback that once again sat down next to his father's bed.

Oakfur looked his middle son for a long moment in the eye, not saying anything. Thornback returned the gaze unflinchingly.

Finally Oakfur spoke, "I wept when you left the mountain."

Thornback blinked in surprise: he had not expected that coming at all. Oakfur never said such things in jest, nor did he use such devices to install guilt. He had actually wept when Thornback had left. And he had hardened his heart against his son's memory and never even named his second son anymore. The thought of the hurt his father must have been going through made Thornback feel guilty, adding already to his shame from prematurely leaving the room.

Oakfur shifted in his bed, "I could never have been able to act the way you wanted. The reasons are impossible to understand, and it would plague you forever." Even as he spoke, a small image in his head long suppressed resurfaced at last: that of a young badger dying in childbirth.

Oakfur froze in horror. He had hoped never to remember that. It was impossible to endure for him: he had loved Betony, damnit! Dunepaw was a name he had learned to fear and lock away from his mind.

Thornback stared at his father as Oakfur continued to say nothing. Thornback wondered what had happened in Oakfur's life to mold him to be this way.

Oakfur twitched his head as memories flooded his brain. Memories he feared, loathed, hid from. It was as though a great dam had been blocking off the river of his past life, and now as age had gone on, a crack had appeared somewhere in the dam and it had grown. The memories had started to trickle in, first of his admission to his past, and then with Dunepaw's final moments (_Oakfur groaned as he remembered the cries of his beloved)_ and soon it was rapidly becoming a threat to the dam and structure of Oakfur's many years.

But it was too late to start to repair the damage: now he was being swept up in memories. Memories of his doomed love with Dunepaw, memories of his long stage of total grief, memories of his hardened, older self marrying a young replacement for Dunepaw, as though taking a wooden appendage to replace a limb of flesh and blood. Certainly he had treated it like a wooden leg, and Betony had known it immediately. A sour marriage meant only to produce the children that Dunepaw could never have given him.

Memories went back even further: memories of his training at Salamandastron, with heavy weapons that made him want to cry out as he lifted them. Memories of villainous sea rats massacring hares barely older than leverets. Memories of his home in the hall of his father, Lord Hemlock.

_'No',_ Oakfur thought in a futile effort to shut his mind, '_not that. Please not that!'_

He thought of his siblings, how they had resented him for being the chosen heir. He wanted to weep as they despised him for being born first. How could he have told them about the disadvantages of being the one the father critiqued most? How could they accept this truth when they resented him so? It had been so much easier to bottle his emotions for all this time... all this time...

Oakfur looked over his life and wanted to weep. What had he done? What had gone wrong? Why couldn't he have possibly been any different?

Finally, he produced something that he had ever been ashamed of and had feared emitting more than ever emitting blood or bile.

Tears.

Tears flowed down his weathered old cheeks, pouring from a well that had been left unattended for too long. They made rivets in Oakfur's face as they passed downwards. The first tears reached his jawline, and though his mouth was shut tight to keep the sobs inwards, he could taste the saltiness of the tears.

He felt horribly ashamed to have Thornback sitting there, seeing him at his weakest and most pathetic. He turned to look upon his second son, knowing the only thing worse than having his son see him this way was to look away in an effort to hide.

But Thornback was not alone. Roaveen and Korari had entered the room. And with them were Colonel Seahawk and Major Jackers, his old friends in war. His shame was redoubled as he looked at the looks on each of their faces.

Then another face slowly swam into his vision: a soft-looking female badger, smiling benevolently down upon him, and whispering, "Come back, Oakfur. Return."

Finally, as if the tears had finally purified him, Oakfur wept. He sobbed out loud and cried out.

He never did find out that Thornback had never been present. He had ignored his summons and had gone before his father had been able to call him back. Oakfur never knew that nobody had been with him as he had poured out his heart.

After that, in the days following up, there was nothing much left of Oakfur. His spirit had already passed on, moving away from the life he had lived. It was only the body, and a bit of his mind, that remained in the land of the living. He was barely aware of his own passing, which was probably the best scenario.

For a person that had spent his life running from pain, it was fitting that he suffered more from facing that pain rather than facing the ultimate escape.


	3. Chapter 3

**2**

Adisa, Warbeak, and Elial spoke for a long time with Skipper and Jander. The otter and squirrel learned of Adisa's arrival at the Abbey, the murder of Slade, the trials and imprisonments, and Varrus' growing hold on power within the abbey. Adisa and Elial spoke of how many Abbey dwellers had been demoralized by the murder of Slade and the later murder of Arly Punto. This had led to the hanging of an innocent creature who was merely an outsider and an emotional recluse. Varrus had banished Adisa from the Abbey, despite the fact that he had paid Elial and two rats to kill Arly. Warbeak told them of what she had witnessed as a sparrow observing the Abbey, literally, from a bird's eye view.

Skipper and Jander were silent when the tale was finally finished. They were overcome with what had happened since they had left to find Judos and the sword. Now they had found the sword and they had returned to a changed place that was evil to hear spoken of. Neither of them could ever have dreamed that Varrus had done what Adisa claimed he had done to a population of civets for such selfish reasons and malignant purpose. Even in old age, he was cunning and deceptive. Jander especially was devastated by the truth about Varrus.

Finally, Jander spoke up, "Elfwin was innocent of Arly's death? Yet Varrus rigged the trial to prove her guilty? He sacrificed a creature for his convenience?" His voice was dull with the pain of saying those words.

Elial, who had spoken in quite a neutral tone as opposed to Adisa's emotional one, replied, "Aye. I should know, because he paid me to kill the hedgehog and the two rats that did him in."

Skipper sighed bitterly, "He blinded us all. All these seasons of being our abbot."

Adisa turned to look at the otter, "We will reveal the truth as it should be. All three of us have evidence to use against Varrus: Warbeak, Elial, and I. If we can accuse Varrus of the crimes he has concealed all this time, then we can stand witness and condemn him."

Warbeak preened her feathers, "He is a cruel beast. We birds have sensed it for many a while now. We can see what is sometimes blind to earth crawlers."

Jander shuddered, "I don't know if I can look him in the face again."

Skipper patted his friend on the shoulder, "Which is why you should stay here for now with Adisa." He turned to look at the civet and thumped his rudder on the earth, "I've been blind for a long time, but now that I can see, I'll help you three in cleansing the Abbey."

Adisa nodded gratefully, "Thank you."

Skipper sat back, already thinking about what to do, "You said that we have allies in Redwall?"

Warbeak nodded, "Mother Sara the stripe dog, Vinicio the hedgehog, Conrad the monk, and Foremole."

Skipper gave a wan smile, "That's good fer us. We'll need people to help us, and if we can get members of the Abbey Elders to join us, then so much the better."

Adisa lifted a paw to warn Skipper, "Most of the Brothers and Sisters support Varrus out of insecurity. They rally around the leader they have in times of trouble. Brother Gores especially has become harsh in his judgements. Varrus has also corrupted several of Arly's old friends to do his bidding. Verso the mole, Wullock the otter, and a few others."

Jander twisted around to stare at Adisa, "What?" He had known Verso and Wullock, they had been his friends, now he was hearing that the bad news had even touched upon them.

Elial frowned at the squirrel. Jander was reaching the point of breakdown: he had been overloaded with new information that broke his heart to hear. They had brought all his beliefs and opinions crashing down. The squirrel needed to rest before he did something silly or something rash.

The old fox stood up, "You need to rest, Jander."

Jander stood up and stepped back, "Shut up! You're lying. This is all too much! I can't believe it anymore. This can't all have happened, I know Varrus! He's a kind old otter who raised me like I was his son!"

Skipper looked at Jander, concern sagging from his very whiskers. He tried to grab Jander's paw, "Jander, matey, calm down. I believe these beasts, they're telling the truth!"

Jander stared in horror at his friend, "Skip, y-you can't possibly believe all this shit! It's impossible!"

Skipper was surprised, "What's the matter with you, Jander? Just sit down and get some rest. You'll feel better tomorrow and you'll know that this is true..."

He fell back with a cry more of shock than pain: Jander had punched him in the shoulder, and had pushed him back. Adisa leaped up to support Skipper, and Elial tried to grab Jander, but the squirrel fled into the darkness of the forest, straight for Redwall. Warbeak jumped into the air and began flying after Jander.

Skipper stared aghast at where his old friend had stood, weeping from what Jander had done, "He's always been my matey! He's fought terrible battles and come out okay. I never thought he'd break..."

Elial patted Skipper on the shoulder, a grim look on his face, "War leaves a mark on you, and you like to think there's always something back home that never changes. He loved Varrus, and knew that he and Redwall would always be there to welcome him back. Now we threaten everything he's been dreaming of coming home to."

Skipper looked at the old fox, "You've felt that breaking point before?"

Elial shrugged, "I've seen it before countless times, and I'll see it many more times before I'm laid down. I've always been a creature of war, and I'll die that way like as not."

Skipper shook his head, "He'll tell Varrus about everything we've done. He'll betray what we've been told."

Adisa looked mortally wounded, "I had to tell you both the truth. I didn't want to leave anything out so that you would understand. If I had known he would break..."

Skipper shrugged, "We never thought to tell you of what we'd been through. And I'm glad you told me everything: now I know what I have to do."

Elial looked at Skipper, "Well, we hadn't told you one thing, and it's a relief that we didn't tell Jander."

Skipper looked at him, "What do you mean?"

Adisa knew this would be hard for Skipper to hear, "There were a number of visitors to the Abbey when Slade was murdered." He noticed that Skipper did not flinch at the mention of Slade: he had learned too much of Slade now to mourn him. Adisa was relieved: that would lessen his shock.

Skipper frowned, "I know that. You just told me this: the bank vole farmers, Hal Copland the mouse, you, Elial, Elfwin the squirrel, and Hella." Hella was his fiance, and he had asked about her during the tale without receiving an answer.

Adisa glanced at Elial before speaking again, "Skipper, you have to believe me as you have already done, and you must keep in mind everything we've told you so far."

Skipper looked nervous, "What is it? Who murdered Slade?"

Adisa turned to the side, "Whoever it was, they escaped the Abbey recently, and they are here right now."

Skipper automatically looked to Elial, but the old fox shook his head.

A new voice spoke up, "I did, Skipper."

Skipper paled, as another creature emerged from hiding, her face streaked with tears.

Hella.

Adisa spoke up, "Skipper, can you at least allow her to explain herself?"

Skipper slowly nodded, still shocked, "Why did you kill Slade, Hella?" His voice was still calm, a relieving note for the other three: they needed Skipper to help against Varrus.

Hella spoke, "Skipper, my mother knew Varrus for a long time. They were raised in the same community, and though he rarely spoke to her, he was well-known to us..."

_Hella's mother's name was Hecuba and had lived in the same community as Varrus. Of course, that was not his real name, but that was a long forgotten fact by most. Varrus had been the son of a wealthy merchant named Neleus, whose prejudice towards the civets on the other side of the river had been made very clear over the seasons. Neleus was known to love drink, and to enforce his power upon his wife and children, yet he had always taught his children that his values were best remembered in times such as those days._

_Varrus had always loved his father dearly, and when his mother died, Neleus was Varrus' only role model._

_Hella herself had been very young when Varrus was a teenager, yet she was told many stories by her mother later on. Hecuba would long remember the cruel words that Varrus spoke of as a youth, and of the even worse deeds done by Slade and his gang. Slade was vicious squirrel who was not intelligent enough to scrape an honest living and so turned to a life of cruelty. The more fastidious and vastly more intelligent Varrus was quietly associated with him, so that few actually connected the two for a while. Varrus was a frequent attendant at the church, and praised fundamentalist views from speakers._

_Hecuba herself was far more liberal, and distrusted Neleus and his son. She was openly furious with the behaviour of Slade, though it was hard to criticize them. The reason being that most of the villagers hated the community of civets. They worshiped pagan gods, they made sacrifices, and they were rumoured to be many other such horrid beings. Hecuba, along with a few of the others in the town, disapproved of the extremist views being sown amongst the people of the town. She wanted to raise her children in peace, not in a time of hatred._

_One of her strongest allies was Elial, an older fox who was raising his son Coldbane. She was one of the last villagers to allow their children to play with little Coldbane. As the children played, Elial and Hecuba would speak to each other of what was going on. Elial actually knew folk across the river, and had seen for himself how cruelly exaggerated the stories were._

_Unfortunately, the majority was against them. As time went on, Slade's gang and other gangs like his became bolder in their attacks upon the civets. They cursed them, belittled them, tormented them, and they dared not strike against the town for fear of the terrible repercussions which would follow. When inhabitants of the town protested, Slade eagerly turned his harassment upon them._

_It was in this way that Elial was driven from the town. Taking Coldbane in his arms, he had left the town for good, driven out by Slade's bullies. Former friends warned Hecuba that she could find the same fate if she was not careful._

_Hecuba knew, inevitably, that to give in would be to insult not only Elial and Coldbane, but also the civets on the other side of the river. She continued to speak out against the preachings of Varrus, who was entering a religious study, and the opinions of her neighbours._

_What she did not reckon on was how much influence the lies told by those in authority had over the people, and how cruel Slade really was. Or he might have just been a puppet for Varrus to perform acts of cruelty that his cowardice did not allow him to do. Varrus was always in the shadows of his plans: rarely involved directly until the end was in sight. Then he came to soak up the glory._

_But in those days he was still a shadowy commander, giving out advice to the powerful and instructions to those beneath him. This included Slade._

_Hecuba had a job as a weaver. She did not keep a loom, but instead worked for a wealthier villager who would pay her a salary to do the hard work on the loom. She was forced to leave her children alone in the house, though at that time, the eldest of them was able to look after little Hella and Alcyone, twin daughters who were still only little infants._

_Hecuba, as every day before, prepared for the day and headed over to the weaver's house to begin work. She knocked on the door, waiting for the weaver to open it._

_But instead, it was a female mouse who opened the door, "Yes?"_

_Hecuba raised an eyebrow, "Where is Master Antenor?"_

_Antenor, a gruff, oversized harvest mouse, hurried up, "Ah, Hecuba. I've been looking for you: you're dismissed. I've hired Eve to replace you."_

_Hecuba stared, "What?"_

_Antenor raised up a paw to dismiss any argument, "I've made my decision. Anybody who dares let a fox play with their children is no fit worker for me. And on top of that, a faithless civet-lover at that!"_

_Not wanting to hear anything more, Hecuba turned around and walked away, hurt and furious. Coldbane had never hurt anyone, he had been a good child, and nobody seemed to look at a person's insides rather than their outside. Deep down, a dark part of her wondered if she had never officially met up with Elial through Coldbane that she'd still have her job. She quickly dismissed these thoughts as giving into the general public, and realized that she must stay strong.  
_

_Hecuba had known it would come, though she had dared hope it would not occur. Antenor had always benefited from hiring her and he relied on her skill. Surely not after all that... but of course, he could most certainly dismiss her for disrupting his racist and fundamentalist ideas. It was as good as an excommunication, this life in the town, and Hecuba knew now was the time to leave._

_Her house was outside the main hustle and bustle of the town, a ten minute walk from the other houses. She enjoyed the peace and quiet from living there, and she felt sad that she was going to leave it behind. And where to go afterwards?_

_Just then, she noticed a thick cloud of smoke coming from the direction of her house._

_Seasons later, people nearby would still not be sure if she fainted then, or if she had screamed in horror and had fallen into delirium, but when she awoke, she was in her neighbour's house, one of the few people still kind to her, and she was told that apart from her two infant daughters, all her children had died in the fire. The house was destroyed. There was nothing left. Witnesses said that a pack of vermin had attacked the house, but Hecuba knew from the beginning that Varrus and Slade had been involved. She would know it until her dying day.  
_

_She stayed in bed for three days, finally coming out of her immense grief. She knew that she had to raise her daughters up properly, the way they needed to become. They needed to be raised properly, as their siblings had not had the chance to be raised. Hella and Alcyone would grow up always knowing who to blame for all this._

At the end of the story, Skipper embraced her, his eyes wet with tears, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Hella began to sob, "I couldn't."

Skipper suddenly looked at her, "So you kept the feud alive. You revenged your brothers and sisters on Slade?"

Hella nodded, "Slade was a twitching degenerate who would only know physical pain. I gave him a cruel death to be sure, but I gave telling clues to Varrus, who has grown paranoid with hiding his past. I shall not debase myself by killing him. I shall watch him break in the face of justice."

Adisa, who had long been silent, stood up suddenly, "Did your sister never get revenge?"

Hella shook her head miserably, "She grew up influenced by what had happened. When she heard the tales, she thought that our mother had been a fool. She fought with her over the story, insisting that Slade and Varrus couldn't possibly have sent vermin after us."

Skipper shook his head, "Then what did she believe?"

Hella shrugged, "She always blamed Coldbane for what happened. She said so until her dying day, so I'm told."


	4. Chapter 4

**3**

Ætharr of Calador, the Ealdor, arrived at his dear friend Judos' hall in the middle of the afternoon.

He was still in his prime, though he was no longer that young anymore. He thought back on how he had been a youthful protege, leading a large army while barely in adulthood. He had mastered and taken over his homeland and secured his rule for good. His son would rule after him, and he would die knowing that he had given Calador power, security, and protection from any possible threat. It was the end that would matter, no matter the means. He, the Ealdor, would do what was good for the country and his people.

He arrived at Judos' hall that day for a number of reasons, most of them involving his three sons. He was accompanied by the chief of the bodyguard, Captain Rojo, a pine marten formerly of the Jeri, but who now led forty weasels, foxes, rats, ferrets, and stoats in the bodyguard of the Ealdor. They represented, along with Judos and Rosheen, a great challenge to the tradition of keeping Calador an all-weasel clan. Also coming along was his beloved cousin, the mighty Ædall, and one of his oldest friends, the thoughtful Ptolemy.

They're teachings with Judos were ending. Now would come the next step in their education, the hardest step they would ever take in their lives, and he was duty-bound to tell Judos, oath-sworn to protect his children, that the time had come.

It was not a good moment for Ætharr. He had had quarrels with Rosheen about the training. It was the first time they had really fought with each other, and it had left Ætharr surprisingly hurt. He had insisted that he himself had gone through with it and had emerged much better off. Rosheen pleaded that it could really hurt them to do this. Ætharr continually referred to Calador's traditions and spoke of how Calador weasels needed to be strong in the arts of war.

Rosheen stingingly had pointed out the suicides that occurred to a small fraction of the weasels, and the powerful position that Calador was in. Surely they did not have to enforce it so strongly upon the children now that Ætharr had regained power and was sworn in a grand alliance with four other tribes? Ætharr countered that the reason that they were so powerful was because of the fighting quality of the Calador fyrd, and they needed to stay strong in case the alliance crumbled or their enemies united against them. Ætharr made a very daring attack and used the murder of Rosheen's father, the mighty Tiarnan, as an example of how the enemy could strike if the alliance were careless.

Perhaps it was that cruel reminder of growing up in the ruling family of a tribe that did it, or maybe it was because both of them detested the argument they were having. Rosheen had eventually, with an amount of persuasion that almost wore Ætharr down to total exhaustion, that it was unavoidable and in their sons' best interests. She looked incredibly bitter as she spoke of it, but she knew that they needed to learn the art of war to become proper rulers.

Thus, he arrived to speak to Judos about the end of their initial education.

When he arrived, Judos was supervising the wrestling matches. The children writhed on the floor, all of them trying to outmatch their opponents.

As Ætharr watched, he felt himself searching desperately for his sons. Where were they?

Then he saw one of them: a thin weasel struggling to wrestle his opponent to the ground.

"Ædelmær,' Ætharr spoke out loud, and he realized it had been a long time since he had seen his three sons. They had visited their parents several times, but the last visit had been four weeks ago. He himself had been busy maintaining his lands, but he had missed his sons. Little Nuala was off with several girls of her age receiving their education, and so he was bereft of children.

He gazed at Ædelmær, watching the weasel's struggles to overpower the bigger child he was fighting with. Ætharr felt himself worrying for Ædelmær: he looked quite frail, though the Ealdor knew that he was very stubborn, determined, and highly intelligent. By far the most intelligent of the three.

As he thought of this, a familiar call rang into his ears. His fatherly instincts guided his head in the direction of the voice. He saw an oversized pup standing over his defeated opponent, cheering in triumph. It was his second son, Lorcan. Ætharr smiled as he recalled when Lorcan was being named, his mother and uncle had chosen that Falcarragh name for the little infant. It seemed that Lorcan wanted to prove them right, for he looked more Falcarragh than Calador at times. Ætharr smiled as he watched his second son's happiness at this victory.

Then there was Ædron. His eldest son and heir. Ætharr sought him out among the crowd before seeing him at the side of Judos. He was sulking angrily and had one paw gripped in Judos'. Ætharr frowned: what was this?

Walking forward, Ætharr wondered why Judos was keeping Ædron from the fight.

Judos saw him, and gave out a call of joyous greetings. Ætharr, despite his puzzlement, was happy to see his friend again, and returned the greetings. The children, seeing their Ealdor approach, stopped fighting immediately, and a sea of whispers began to build.

"Father!" Little Ædelmær came bounding forward, eager to see his father. Ætharr smiled warmly as he spread out his arms for a hug. With as much speed as he could, Ædelmær jumped into his father's embrace, laughing as Ætharr swung him around and put him back down again.

Ætharr was touched by Ædelmær's love, and felt himself feeling even more attached to the little weasel. He turned to embrace his second son, Lorcan, who eagerly told him about how he had won the wrestling match. Elsewhere, Ptolemy and Ædall were approached by their sons.

Ætharr turned to look at Judos, "Good day, Judos."

Judos smiled, "How are you today?"

Ætharr grunted in reply, and looked down at his eldest son, "Why is he being kept from the fighting?"

Judos looked down at Ædron, "I told him to play fair, and he bit his opponent's paw."

Ætharr felt surprised that his eldest son should do something like that. He put his paw under Ædron's chin, gently but firmly, and made the weasel look into his eyes, "Is this true?"

Ædron's eyes burned with shame, but also defiance as he answered, "He was cheating too! He scratched me on the nose!" Indeed, his nose did have a scratch mark upon it, Ætharr noted.

He looked back at Judos, knowing that Judos would have noticed this as well. Judos responded, "Yes I knew that, and I have sent him out of the room as punishment. But when I assigned Ædron to another partner he cheated again."

Ædron quickly spoke up, "No I didn't! He's lying, father!" He suddenly went very quiet as his father, cold with anger, looked into his son's eyes, "Ædron, are you accusing your instructor of lying to you? Are you disobeying the creature sworn to look after you? Are you denying the truth to your father and his old friend?"

Ædron tried to look away, speaking in a meek voice, "No father. I'm sorry I spoke out."

Ætharr nodded, but he was still cold as he spoke again, "You were unfairly scratched on the nose. However, you were foolish and insubordinate by immediately resorting to cheating. You must never do such a thing as that again. Moreover, you disobeyed your teacher and you lied to me. These things are not to happen again, do you understand?"

Completely subdued Ædron nodded.

Ætharr patted his son on the head, "Good. Now go and cool your paws off in the other room."

Judos watched Ædron walk into the other room, "A pity that the first time he sees his father in four weeks is when he has misbehaved."

Ætharr frowned, "Is this an often occurrance?"

Judos shrugged, "He's young, Ætharr."

Ætharr gave a twitch, dismissing the excuse, "He should learn to be honourable and honest to his friends. I don't care how he defeats his enemies, but it is a wrestling match, not a battle to the death. The training will do him good."

Judos caught the last sentence, "You mean...?"

Ætharr nodded, "Yes. Their time with you is over. They will now embark on the second part of their training. The one that will make them true Calador weasels."

Judos sighed, "Very well. I'm going to miss them."

Ætharr shrugged, "They shall be back, Judos. They shall be back."

Judos looked to where Ædelmær wrestled with Kerouac. He watched Nearchus and Antigonus talking eagerly about their successes.

Ætharr followed his gaze, and spoke in a stern tone, "It's for their own good, Judos. They must grow up and be ready to fight should their country ever need them."

Judos nodded absent-mindedly, "Indeed. For who knows what wars you may start next." He was referring, of course, to the plans and ambitions that writhed in Ætharr's mind, urging him to defeat his enemies for good and rule as the supreme king of the vermin clans.

Ætharr's expression went from outraged to annoyed in such a brief time that only an old friend would not have missed it. Judos wondered if he should have said that, but Ætharr made no reply. He merely patted Judos on the shoulder in farewell and walked away from him to hear more stories from his children.

Judos watched Lorcan and Ædelmær crowd eagerly around their father, and sighed. What would they look like when they were faced with what was coming?


	5. Chapter 5

**4**

Warbeak returned with Jander, who looked subdued and devastated. However, he did not try to escape again, and allowed Skipper to soothingly tell him that it would be alright.

Adisa hoped that Jander would realize that he was telling the truth. Jander knew too much now, and if he tried to rejoin Varrus, it would be devastating.

The next morning, Elial caught a fish from the river, and with a combination of tubers, berries, and nuts, it provided them a fine breakfast. The group was quiet, unsure of what was going to happen with Jander. The squirrel sat apart from the rest, concentrating on his eating. Skipper sat next to Hella, the Sword of Martin slung to his back. He was worrying for Jander, it was very clear, but he did not want to pressure the squirrel into doing something rash.

Finally, Jander looked at them, "Do you all swear that you're telling the truth?"

Warbeak nodded, as did Elial. Hella spoke, "Aye" while Adisa stood up, "I swear it."

Jander nodded solemnly, then spoke again, "I want to see him."

The group started in surprise. Skipper stood up, "Come again, matey?"

Jander looked at Skipper as though he were a Dibbun that was learning his letters, "I want to see it in his eyes. I want to see that Varrus, the one creature that's been a father to me, I want to be able to see the truth in his eyes."

Skipper glanced at Adisa, who spoke, "Are you sure?"

Jander nodded, "I won't tell him anything of us. I'll make something up. But the only surety I can get is if I can see it in his face."

Slowly, reluctantly, the group nodded. Adisa stood up, "If you wish to see the truth in Varrus' eyes, you must tell him this story."

Jander spent the next three hours preparing his story, with the help of the others. Finally, he knew what to do and say once he approached Redwall.

Jander got up and headed out into the forest, aiming straight for Redwall. He knew exactly what he would do, and he would find out once and for all if Varrus had lied to him all these seasons.

He headed up towards Redwall, looking at the armed guard patrolling the battlements. Warning signs in Jander were already ringing: since when did armed creatures guard the Abbey during peacetime?

He called up to the creature, "Ho! It's me! Jander!"

The creature stopped and looked at the squirrel, "What?"

Jander jumped; it was Wullock, the otter. He called up again, "Wullock! Don't you remember your old pal Jander?"

Vaguely, he saw Wullock quickly bound out of sight. Then the doors of Redwall were opened up, and the otter rushed out, "Jander! Praise God! You're alive!"

Jander smiled as he embraced his old friend. A crowd began to gather as others recognized Jander. A cheer began to build up as more and more of the Abbey dwellers crowded around Jander, trying to hug him or grab his paw.

Mother Sara came forward, towering above the other creatures. The silver badger picked up Jander under his arms and hugged him in joy, "Welcome back, Jander! It's so good to see you again!"

Jander felt his heart go out to the badger, and he blinked back tears of happiness, "Hello, Mother Sara. It's good to be back!"

Along with the cheering, questions were being fired at the squirrel: where was Raga? Where was Skipper? Where was the Sword of Martin? Or Judos? What had happened?

Jander did not try to answer the questions as he was led by the crowd to the Abbott. Jander felt a shiver go down his spine; now he would know.

He saw the otter approach, looking older than ever, and he did not know whether to be happy or nervous. He automatically smiled to see the Abbott.

Happiness was etched upon Varrus' face, "Welcome back, Jander! I've long missed your presence!"

Like Sara, he embraced Jander, but more gently and affectionately. Jander felt himself weep: how could this benevolent creature possibly have been a harbinger of hatred and death? How could he smile so, and yet be a villain?

Varrus called for silence so that Jander could explain where the others were.

Jander found himself in the middle of a large circle of familiar faces. He moved his weight from one foot paw to the other, preparing to speak.

Varrus smiled benevolently, "Go on, Jander!"

Jander spoke, his voice hoarse with anticipation, "We have recovered the Sword of Martin the Warrior."

This was instantly met with cheers and sounds of relief. Varrus looked concerned, "What about Judos?"

Jander paused, and shook his head, "Judos and Mellor are dead."

A stunned silence enveloped the Abbey dwellers, followed by the shedding of tears. Jander knew that he had to speak on.

"We tried to find him, though, and we didn't know he was dead until much later. We spent a great deal of time trying to track him down. We heard he had been captured by a band of vermin, and we hurried to find them. We never caught sight of them, though we could trace them by those who had seen them pass earlier. At one point, we ran into the Gousim and they helped us search, for it was told to us that Judos had stolen one of his boats. Mellor had been with us the whole time but one night, he ran away. We knew he had gone to find Judos, so we hurried after him. There was an ambush from vermin on the third night after Mellor disappeared. We outnumbered them, though, so it was a short fight: but we realized that Mellor and Judos must have run into them. We knew because one of the ones we'd killed had been carrying the sword of Martin."

Looking around the room, Jander took a deep breath and continued.

"We wanted to continue onwards and make sure that they were dead. It took us a long time before we found an abandoned canoe beside the river. It had been a canoe that Judos had stolen from Log a Log and there were no footprints from the canoe. We had to assume he had drowned. And anyway, we couldn't do much, since the vermin band we'd been tracking returned. They were twice as strong, led by a big bastard named Coldbane."

He chose that time to pause, and glanced at Varrus. The abbott was composed, but he no longer looked happy. He had lost his smile of encouragement, and seemed very solemn. He casually began speaking again.

"Coldbane caught us by surprise, and so many more would have died if we hadn't gotten away. We pulled out of that fight barely standing, and the vermin weren't much better off either. We'd taken a prisoner though: a strange animal that we'd never seen before. He told us he was a raccoon, whatever that means. We thought we could interrogate him and find the truth about Judos and Mellor. He caved in eventually: he confirmed that they were dead. But he also told us he'd been forced to fight for the vermin under pain of death.'

'He told us about how they'd been paid by a corrupt hare in the Highlands, and Raga told us that we had to defeat this tyrant of the north. We met with a group of fugitives who told us tales of Taskill, and we knew we had to defeat him. Ben the raccoon returned to speak to you all, I'm assuming: certainly we'd paid him enough."

He looked questioningly at the crowd. They nodded and spoke out loud that Ben had told them of the journey to the mountains. Jander blinked; this would be the hardest to tell. As he spoke, his audience gasped and wept as he spoke of the slain.

"We rallied the Highlands against Taskill and to avoid repeating what Ben told you, I'll keep it short. We slew Taskill and defeated his regime. At much loss to our side: Peggy and Shane died alone, surrounded by foes, and their sisters broke themselves trying to save them. If I could have done anything, I'd have saved them, but we were all hard-pressed. Raga led the attack with the Sword of Martin against Taskill, and at the last minute, wounded in a dozen places, Taskill wrested the blade from Raga and slew him with it. He himself died of his own wounds."

He paused, waiting for the noise to subside. He glanced at Varrus again: the old otter looked terribly sad, as Jander had prayed he would be.

Jander returned to the story, "Skipper and I buried Raga in the Highlands. It was fitting that his body would lay as a monument to the warriors who fight for freedom and change. We were told that there would be a monument built to honour his name." This was not a lie: Thornback had vowed to build it himself if it came to that. It would be a monument to honour the history and memories of the Highlands. Jander had been touched to hear that his name would be carved on the monument. But this, he did not tell the Redwallers. Instead he spoke onwards,

"Skipper and I headed back home together. We headed down the river, carrying the Sword of Martin between us. We didn't really have a hard time of it, to be honest with you all. It was murderous weather, but in all it was a fast journey. I was glad of it: I've seen enough violence to last me a lifetime."

The peaceful Abbey dwellers nodded empathetically, unable to truly understand what Jander had done. They could never understand unless they'd been there.

Mother Sara looked confused, "But where is Skipper? And the sword of Martin?"

Jander knew that this would decide if Varrus was the otter described by the group. He took a breath and forced himself to be steady.

"Skipper and I were going down the river, when we ran into an old fox along the river bank. He told us his name was Elial, and that he had seen murder done at Redwall."

Gasps were made in the crowd, but Jander didn't notice them.

He noticed Varrus' look of horror. It was there only for the briefest of moments, and if Jander hadn't been keeping watch of Varrus from out of the corner of his eye, he would have missed it. But it was there: only Varrus would be horrified of Elial still being in Mossflower and being able to talk of his experiences at Redwall. Nobody else would care that much: he'd been declared innocent in the face of the fact that Elfwin had been hanged for the crime of double murder. Only Varrus would know the terrible truth he had ordered to be done.

Jander knew now that it was true. He felt himself want to fall to the ground, but knew he had to finish his tale without losing his composition. It was essential that Varrus hear the last part of it.

"Skipper could see that the old fox was dying, so we tried to help him. But he was beyond help: he'd been wounded badly by a group of religious fanatics who'd insisted he'd been a pagan and vermin. He died soon after we found him. We never found out who had been murdered. Skipper told me to head back to Redwall, while he would find his clan and drive out the ruffians who'd slain Elial. He's told me to tell you that he'll deliver the sword back once he's made sure they won't hurt anyone else again."

Another quick glance: Varrus was still composed, but even a quick look from Jander's sharp eyes could sense something bordering relief in the old otter's eyes. He wondered how he could possibly be the only person to have seen the looks on Varrus' face.

He had not been alone. For as he glanced at Mother Sara, who was able to see Varrus as easily as Jander, she gave him the slightest nod and the merest wink of her eye. She was involved in this after all.

Jander found himself unable to leave the limelight of attention until he stated that he was going to go help Skipper. Abbott Varrus wished him well, and stated once again that it was a relief to see him back.

Oh, he was genuinely happy to see Jander back: Jander could see it. No matter what the old otter had done, he would always be the kindly father figure to many in the Abbey. It was a horrid thought to have to place this fatherly image with that of a creature who'd ordered the deaths of many creatures and manipulated people into emerging victorious. The thought brought tears to Jander's eyes as he walked out of Redwall the next day, loaded with supplies for the journey. He wished he could have spoken to Mother Sara, Foremole, Conrad, or Vinicio, but knew that they would know he was involved in the resistance.

He made his way back to the rendezvous point, where Warbeak brought him to the others. Skipper looked at his friend, "Well?"

Jander shuddered, began to weep, and nodded his head, "We have to bring him to justice."

Skipper's heart went out to his friend, and he hugged the squirrel. Jander looked at him with baleful eyes after a few moments, "That otter was like a father to me. He will always be a kindly leader in my memories, but I can never forgive him for what he's done to Adisa and Arly and others. I will not rest until he's seen the consequences of his actions."

Adisa nodded in gratitude. Now they could really begin to bring Varrus down.


	6. Chapter 6

**5**

Ætharr knew that this was going to be a bad scene.

But it had to be done. His sons must embark on a series of lessons that kept them isolated in the wilderness. They would learn how to survive in the wild, to fight like the devil, and to carry their weapons for days and days on end. It was rigorous, and they would have to be tough to endure.

He remembered his own. His father had watched impassively as he had wept and screamed. His mother had died already, and his father had eventually turned his back on his son so that he would not see the tears. Ætharr hat hated him for it afterwards for days. His terror at being alone had fuelled into a hatred of his father, and he had sworn that he would show his father that he could overcome this. He had done so, and his father had been so emotional at their reunion that Ætharr could not help but forgive his father and be reconciled to him. It had taught him the essence of being alone and surviving, after all. He could not begrudge that for long.

His sons would be like this too, surely. How could they hate him for doing something in their best interests? It was for their own good.

But when his sons returned home with joy dripping off their whiskers as they embraced their sister and mother, he couldn't do it. It would hurt them far too much. He didn't want to hurt them too much if it could be helped. He'd give them two weeks before sending them off. It would take two weeks to pick up the rest anyway: let them be picked up first and then the sons of Ætharr last.

So it was that the children of the Ealdor were seen playing together in Æthelly, along with other children living there. Rosheen was at her happiest as she watched them play, and Ætharr felt time ticking as he tried to enjoy the time with his sons.

He truly loved them. Anyone who saw Ætharr with his four children knew that by the look on his face, and also by his behaviour: he was a fine father, people would say, and a good example of responsibility for Calador.

But if his family life was going well, his life as Ealdor was less so. Viggo, the old and intelligent cripple who was theign over the southern lands of Calador, was causing trouble with his open scorn for the upstart ruler, as he called him. Ætharr knew that Viggo was far too clever to be outright treacherous, but he would continue to place a surveillance on the weasel. Not just the cripple, but Vogel as well. Vogel had been one of the weasels that had stayed loyal to Ætharr from the start and as a result was made theign of the eastern lands along with Jinn, and another old companion named Burg. However, Vogel was turning to drink in his incessant boredom. He knew he had fallen from favour, but it had warped his mind to hate and resent the other theigns.

Aside from these two, the theigns were loyal. Ætharr had filled the ranks with his friends and most loyal followers, such as Jinn (who also managed an agency that extended to almost all the other tribes), Horal, Ptolemy, Judos, Agricola, Burg, and Gyras. The others (Cynefrid, Ulric, and Craterus) were also honourable creatures that would follow their lord.

Meanwhile, Ætharr had two special soldiers hiding out in secret. One of them was the ever-loyal, indestructible Lanvor, the other was the raccoon Ben. These two were part of a plan that Ætharr was laying down to defeat the dangerous Loptrio and Alcax tribes for good. He would drive them out as he had the Millar tribe, and take their lands. It would leave him the most powerful ruler among the tribes by far. This, coupled with the alliance Calador was in with Falcarragh, Hunan, Jeri, and Vireo, would make Calador untouchable. He would have succeeded in ending the strife between the tribes once and for all.

And then? He was not yet sure. He knew that he could move beyond the lands of the vermin. Perhaps Salamandastron? Or Southsward? The Kala tribe could be driven off or annexed, and then he could lead his army across the vermin lands. It was a bold plan, and the idea of becoming so powerful, coupled with a longing for war, was filling him with a dreadful lust to carry it out. But patience was the key: all in good time for now. Ben and Lanvor would be told what to do and there would be no trouble.

Meanwhile, the time was coming up for Ætharr's sons to go off. Rosheen could sense the time fading away too, and she started to look miserable. Ætharr wondered if she would forgive him, dreading the thought of losing her. He loved her deeply, as deeply as when she had fought with him at the seige of Brocovar. He could not bear losing her now that she and he had produced a family together.

However, she said nothing to him. She had accepted that it was necessary. It was the fact of being the daughter of a great ruler: she saw what was necessary, even if it made her sad. Ætharr would try to comfort her, but he knew she would be content when it was over, and her sons returned.

Judos came by just before the day came. He too had been plagued with the thought of the day approaching, and had come to spend time with his adopted nephews one last time. They had some difficulty at first, having just left his classes, but Judos was so able to shrug off his teacher's mantle that they grew comfortable around him. Ædelmær, however, would still hold long conversations with Judos about what he had learned. Often he would bring his father into the conversation, as though it amazed him to have his two role models sitting together discussing the topics that so fascinated him.

Ætharr recognized his son's eagerness, and was touched by it. However, he could not always sit down with Judos and Ædelmær, for he was busy playing with his other children as well. Lorcan loved to wrestle or play sword-fight, as did Ædron. Nuala wanted mostly to play with her dolls and occasionally, when she was with her brothers, she would participate in slinging rocks. Rosheen had taught her the ability to sling rocks to keep her mind off of her missing brothers, so she was easily the best shot of the children.

Ætharr thought to himself once, and would have laughed about it at another time, if he and Rosheen continued on the tradition of teaching her weapons while she was left alone without her brothers, then she could become more skilled than any boy in Æthelly.

While he would have found it amusing in another time, he was merely filled with a sadness that seemed to be resistant to being shaken off.

Judos noticed it too. Ætharr seemed to be weighed down by his conscience, or his fatherly attitude. Whatever it was, the otter knew that in a way, he was lucky not to be a parent in Calador.

One day, Judos approached Ætharr, "You're bothered by this too much to go through with it, Ætharr."

Ætharr automatically shook his head, "No. I can't deny my sons this lesson. It is essential that they learn these skills."

Judos stared at his friend, "But Ætharr, you can't do this to your sons? It will kill them!"

Ætharr glared resentfully at the otter, "Did you have to say it like that?"

Judos paused, and saw how hurt Ætharr truly was beneath his appearance. He was worried that they would not make it through the training, and he was also concerned for their well-being.

The otter sighed, "It's tearing you up, isn't it?"

Ætharr shrugged, "My father went through it. His father, and his father before that, they all went through with it. As will I."

Judos shook his head, "They'll never forgive you for it." He was talking about Ætharr's sons. To be torn apart from their family and home on their father's orders. It was unthinkable to a child's mind.

Ætharr shrugged, "I forgave my father for it."

Anger filled Judos up and Ætharr's simple, foolish arguments in the face of this problem. It was so unlike Ætharr to speak this way, and the stubbornnes of the weasel was maddening. The otter tried not to shout as he spoke back, "You are not your father, Ætharr! They are not you! You can't just stick with tradition like this! You've flouted tradition ever since you met me! What makes this tradition any different?"

Ætharr swelled with his own righteous anger, "You forget your place, Judos! You are here because I welcomed you here and fought against those who said you should be sent away! I don't deserve this outburst from you!"

"You welcomed me here? Maybe you did, and maybe I was foolish enough to accept this place as home, but don't you _dare_ try to use that to make me guilty. If it wasn't for me you'd never have gotten out of Klinus' prison!"

"Would you have done any better alone?" Ætharr retorted, "You weren't doing any better on your own! What gives you the right to speak to me like this?"

"I'll tell you what gives me the right!' Judos snarled, 'The right of being a fellow free-thinking animal! You think you're a god? You think you can't make mistakes? _You think Calador doesn't have faults_?!"

Ætharr roared in anger, and for a moment Judos wondered if the weasel would strike Judos. But the weasel held his temper and instead snarled in a choked voice, "An ealdor is not a god! But he must make decisions for a country! He is a leader! A leader must do what he feels is the right thing, and nothing else! He must consider the plight of his people and decide what must be done! If he is successful, then that is that! He has succeeded, and his people are safe! That is why we have _tradition_, Judos! Have you never lived under a tradition before?!"

Judos too felt that accusation his a tender spot, and he roared back to outshine Ætharr's anger, "Yes I did! And I hated every fucking minute of it! Aside from a few creatures, I do not miss a single one of those bastards at Redwall!"

Ætharr's face suddenly went pale, and a look of embarrassment went over his face. Judos realized that he was no longer looking at the otter.

Turning around, Judos saw three heavily built weasels standing with a sentry at the door. Judos wondered how long they'd been standing there. This was a very dangerous moment for Ætharr: if he had been heard raging in this fashion concerning the tradition, then either he would lose face, Judos would be considered even more of an outsider and a traitor, or both events would happen. All the anger Judos felt towards Ætharr suddenly evaporate as he worried for his friend.

However, the guard seemed innocent of the affair, "Sire? There's someone here to see you. Is it a bad time?"

Ætharr studied the tone of the voice, deemed it oblivious of what was said, and answered, "Yes. Would you mind if they waited outside for the moment?"

The four weasels bowed and went out again.

Ætharr turned back to Judos, "A very wise person once wrote that it is much safer to be feared than to be loved when one of the two must be lacking. Even if my sons hate me, I will have succeeded in what has to be done." He spoke in a firm finality, and he left Judos in the hall as he left. Judos heard him greet the trainers who had come to take his sons away. A bitterness filled Judos for what was to come, and he closed his eyes.

Soon, he heard screams that could only belong to children. With a heavy heart, Judos turned to stand with Ætharr. He could resent this all he wanted, but he would not let it destroy his loyalty to Ætharr.

The three trainers were being assisted by some guards as they took three struggling youths towards the gateway. All three were struggling in some way, and all three stared at the group of people who stood on a slope.

Judos joined Ætharr, Rosheen, Nuala, and a few others that watched as Ædron, Lorcan, and Ædelmær were being taken away for the training. Nuala was in tears, pleading with her mother to stop what was happening, but Rosheen merely sobbed.

Another voice was calling to Rosheen. It was Ædron, wailing at the top of his pre-pubescent voice to be let go. He screamed as two weasels, gently but firmly, tried to lead him towards the gate. Lorcan was struggling hard, but he was no match for the large adult weasels. Eventually he turned away from his parents, refusing to look at them, trying to hide the emotion from witnesses.

Judos wanted to weep as he watched them being taken away. Then he saw Ædelmær, and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

The third son of Ætharr was trying to escape, but the guards held him back easily. Ashamed of his weakness in breaking their grip, and devastated by this event, Ædelmær called out in a voice that was alike to a wrongly convicted criminal being dragged to the gallows, "Father! Father! _Father, please don't let them take me!_"

Judos turned to look at Ætharr. The Ealdor looked like he had in the darkest moments of the war against Oorlog. His face was wrenched in pain and frustration, with tears flowing down his face.

Ædelmær realized that his father had meant it when he had told him that this was necessary to be done in order to make him a true Calador weasel. His father would not save him now, and he could rely only on himself. He ceased to struggle, but he was also not cooperating with his captors. He allowed himself to be dragged off, staring back at the group of people who could stop this and did not.

It was Ædelmær's eyes that chilled Judos. They were filled with pure horror at what was to come, and also the horror at the betrayal that this seemed to be. He would understand, Judos pleaded with himself, but it still cut him to see that face of one so admiring of him. Would he blame Judos? Or his parents?

A movement caught Judos' eye, and he saw Ætharr turn away, unable to endure this torture of watching his sons dragged away. He knew it was the right thing to do, yet it did him little good.

Judos sighed. Now all they could do was wait and see if the sons succeeded in this training. If they could get through this, Judos thought, then he hoped to all hope that they did not hate their father for it. Although Judos disagreed with Ætharr on this, he could never wish that fate upon him. He knew Ætharr would have hoped for the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot.


	7. Chapter 7

**6**

The small group outside Redwall wrote a small message to their associates inside Redwall. They explained everything, including their plans for toppling Varrus. Warbeak flew over to the Abbey to give her or Conrad the message. How she did it none of them knew, but when she returned she had a reply hastily written from Conrad. He wished them well, saying that God was on their side, and that they would be prepared to help them when they returned.

The plan was to finally stage a trial upon Varrus, but they all knew that if they approached him and accused him, then he would win the case. He was too powerful in his element, surrounded by supporters in Redwall.

They needed to surprise him. They would take Redwall from his paws, enter it and hold it under a form of mass arrest. The truth would be forced out of Varrus, who would be completely surprised to the events.

However, they couldn't just take Redwall. First of all they were too few in number, at least until Skipper rallied enough otters in Mossflower, and even then if they tried, they would be morally in the wrong. They needed an approval of authority to forcefully take the power of Redwall from its Abott.

The only solution was to find Judge Thael.

Thael had been called upon before to proclaim judgement in Redwall. Judges traveled the land, giving out justice according to the region's laws. If they could find the superior authority that rested with Judge Thael, then they could claim they were in the right to assault Redwall.

With Judge Thael, they would be able to defeat Varrus. For three of them had evidence that could condemn anyone to punishment. The big problem was to find Judge Thael and persuade him to come to Redwall.

The problem was that nobody was sure where Thael had gone. Thael had his home three days south from Redwall, but as he was on his rounds, he would most likely not be there.

The group sat around the fire, each wondering where Judge Thael would most likely be. Warbeak had travelled beyond Mossflower, but she was unsure of the names of places. Elial had much experience travelling, but he, as well as Adisa, was silent. Both had deep wounds placed very near here, and they feared that someone would dare to raise the location.

Naturally it was Skipper, so familiar with the lands around Redwall, that brought up the most obvious answer, "I say we go to Pharen. If any place would need a judge, that's it."

The closest major settlement near Redwall was the small kingdom of Pharen. This was ruled by kings and had long been established to the north of Redwall.

Adisa did not want to go there. Pharen was perilously close to where his life's story had taken place. Indeed, it may very well include that old massacre ground in its kingdom now.

He stood up, "I don't think that that is where Thael is, Skipper." He tried to sound calm, but the images of his dead family filled him with anger and fear.

Elial saw it in the civet's face, "Come on, now, Adisa." He sounded as though Adisa was threatening Skipper with a knife.

Adisa stared at the otter, oblivious of the fox, "I have no intention of returning to the ground still soaked in my people's blood."

Warbeak offered a wing, "Adisa, you must face that land, or else it will haunt you forever."

Adisa sighed shakily, "It has haunted me all this time." But deep down, he knew that he had to face it again. It just hurt him so much to do it.

The five companions began heading north for Pharen, carefully making a long detour around Redwall Abbey. They knew that if they could get away unnoticed, then they could truly catch Varrus by surprise.

Eventually, after two days of travel, Pharen came into sight. The heart of the kingdom of Pharen lay in its city. It was the textbook example of what was once called a city-state. The large settlement was the source of its existence.

The five travelers headed towards Pharen, approaching the wooden palisade that protected the village from attack. Ten guards stood to attention by the gate, and they pointed their spears menacingly at Adisa and Elial.

Skipper and Jander announced themselves to try and vouch for their safety. Fortunately, one of the guards was an otter who knew Skipper well, and the group was permitted to enter.

The group headed to the large fortress at the center of the city. It was in turn guarded by more soldiers. Adisa was growing more and more agitated as they headed for the King's home.

As before, a group of guards approached the five companions, "Who are you?"

Skipper took charge, "We're from Redwall. I'm Skipper of Otters, with a group of friends here. We've come to see King Opac."

Adisa made an involuntary growl of anger. The guard didn't miss it, and looked at the civet for a long time, "What is your intention of seeing him?"

Skipper made a calming gesture at Adisa and turned back to the guard, "You know me. I'm a creature of the peace, but I have a dispute to settle between this creature and King Opac. I vouch for Adisa and for the others."

The guard frowned, evidently thinking of a way that could turn these strangers away, but he had no right to refuse petitioners access to the King. He escorted them inside.

Once inside the great hall, he went off to go alert the King.

As soon as the guard was gone, Skipper whirled upon Adisa, "You've got to let your hate rest, Adisa, or else we'll never get anywhere!"

Warbeak nodded, "He's right, Adisa."

Adisa looked miserable and humiliated, "I'm trying, friends. I'm trying!"

He looked so conflicted that it was hard to blame him for being so angry with these people and this King Opac. If indeed it was the same King Opac.

The guard returned, and announced, "All hail the King Opac II of Pharen." He turned and bowed his king into the hall.

Adisa stared in horror at Opac before hastily bowing out of necessity to hide his face. The middle aged dormouse was the spitting image of his father, Opac the First. The same build, the same pace, the same clothes. The past was hard to confront.

Skipper stood, "May I ask, Highness, that we can speak in private?"

Opac looked at him in surprise, and answered. Adisa almost heard Opac's father in his voice.

"What matter is so urgent and private that you would rouse me from my duties and speak to me alone?"

Skipper bobbed his head again in respect, "Sire, there is a dispute that must be settled. We also come to ask of the Judge Thael and his whereabouts."

Opac paused, thinking, and looked pointedly at the guard. The guard bowed, and departed the room, bolting the door shut behind him.

Opac looked at the five travelers, "Now then. What do you need of Judge Thael?"

Jander spoke up, "We need to find out where to find him. We need him to deal with a major conflict in Redwall Abbey."

Opac smiled, "As much as I respect Redwall Abbey, I cannot help but remind you that Judge Thael must follow his regular route. You'll have to wait until he reaches Redwall again."

Skipper looked worried, "This cannot wait, sire. This is an issue that must be dealt with now. We're talking about corruption as high up as the Abbott himself!"

Opac was shaken at that statement, but tried to shrug it off, "I can't imagine what Abbott Varrus is possibly guilty of, but whatever it is, it must wait! I can't afford to do that."

Adisa spoke in a dangerous voice, "I think you will."

Opac looked angrily at the civet, "And who are you to say that?"

Adisa spoke again, in the kind of voice that had terrified Varrus for so long, "I have come to speak the truth against Varrus, and if you do not help us now, I shall tell the people of your father's treachurous deal with the orchestrators of a genocide."

Opac shuddered at the cruel threat behind those words, but didn't say anything.

Adisa stepped forward, "Your father was approached by the top officials of the town, and..."

"Stop! I know the tale! I was alive at that time!" Opac cried out. He looked down at his shoes, "I know my father did terrible things..."

"And the people of Pharen shall know of what he did. I'm sure their memories have long forgotten something unpleasant in their history. If you do not give us the aid we request, it will be not only the people of Redwall, but also the people of Pharen that hear of the forgotten stories."

Skipper and Jander glanced at each other. The righteous threats of the wronged was always the most dangerous threat in existence.


	8. Chapter 8

**7**

Judos would have felt badly about this whole situation if he wasn't so busy. The reason he was busy was that Calador was once again at war.

Judos was surprised about the new war. Calador had had a short breathing space after the Millar invasion, and now they were to be thrust back into battle. The Loptrio and the Alcax tribe were preparing an assault, and with their allies, the fyrd of Calador would march out.

Ætharr had made this clear to Judos by summoning him to Æthelly three days after his sons' departure.

The otter had been unsure of what his friend wanted, and was surprised to see him trying out armour, "What is this, Ætharr? A celebration?"

The weasel had laughed, "A celebration in certain ways, a death knell in others, Judos. Prepare your lands for war."

Judos had shuddered. He had been in war, he had seen blood like he'd never imagined, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to do it again. He had grown very accustomed to the peace, and now he was not entirely keen on the idea of going back into battle.

He knew that he shouldn't say this in front of Ætharr; it was like telling a priest that he wanted to drink in church. However, he could not keep silent about it, "Ætharr, why are we going to war now?"

Ætharr cheerfully answered the question, "Because my family is as far out of harm's way as I can possibly put them, because it is the right moment to unleash my plan, and it is time for Calador to establish itself as the true power and to unite the tribes together forever."

Judos shuddered, but spoke again, "Are you sure it's a good idea?"

Ætharr glanced at him, "Why not? It's perfect timing, Judos. Everything I've arranged so far has worked, so it would be a fine idea to profit from this good luck."

Judos sighed, "Are you sure about this?"

Ætharr paused, and looked directly at Judos, "Something the matter with you? You don't sound like the otter who stood up to three thousand troops at the Battle of Verfluchtes Land."

Judos remembered that battle with much pride and regret. He couldn't help but wonder how many creatures he had killed, how many orphans he had made, even as he proudly considered himself a warrior.

Ætharr, such a good reader of character, looked at Judos' diffidence, and nodded, "You've gotten used to peace. I can respect that."

Judos had indeed gotten used to it, but he felt insulted by this judgement, as if he was scared. Ætharr had that way of implying things, he had learned that from the crafty Jinn.

Judos tried to turn it back to his friend, "Are you sure you can still lead troops?"

It was a feeble retort, and Ætharr had the grace to treat it with humour. Laughing it off, he thumped himself in the chest, "I've stayed fit just for this occasion. The day an Ealdor couldn't lead his armies to war is a disastrous day."

To prove his point, he picked up a long spear and walked over to the far end of the hall. With a roar of effort, he hurled the long weapon towards the other side of the hall. Judos stared in awe as the spear pierced the thick wood with a thud.

Ætharr pulled out one of his throwing hatchets and took careful aim. His paw moved like chain lightning, and the hatchet sunk into the wall directly in line with the spear's point.

Ætharr laughed, "I'm in the prime of life, Judos! And I say it is now the time to go to war!"

Judos shivered inwardly, but nodded.

Ætharr looked at him, "And I need you to raise the conscripts." He was referring to the Calador fyrd, which composed of the professional soldiers, and those that were conscripted from the fields and towns.

Judos faltered at the idea of having to go and take male weasels from their families to bleed in a foreign land, "Surely the professionals are sufficient? We have more than enough troops."

Ætharr glanced at him in surprise, "If I took all two thousand of my professional troops into enemy lands, what's to say they won't sneak around and take Calador from me? Plus, they'll outnumber us immensely if we rode to open war with the professionals only."

"And our allies?" Judos retorted.

Ætharr faltered, and sighed, "They have their own problems, Judos."

'Meaning, the otter thought to himself, 'that Ibos has found another excuse to hide from war, that Blackaxe is holding off the Alcax tribe, that Kazahley is too busy helping Blackaxe, and that Cocoran is still securing his rule as King of the Falcarragh.'

However, it was not such bad news according to Ætharr, "Cocoran has promised me five hundred of his finest warriors to help me fight the Loptrio tribe, and the Alcax will be too busy fighting off the Hunan and Jeri counter-attack being developed within the next few weeks. As soon as they hear of my invasion, they will strike as hard and fast as they can."

Judos nodded, "So how many Calador troops will march into enemy lands?"

"I want to keep just over half my professionals here to defend Calador, and arm half the militia to guard alongside them. I have almost eight hundred professional soldiers being trained at the moment and I am going to lead them with the veterans. Also, there will be half the conscripts marching with us."

Judos figured it out for himself, "Eight hundred freshly enlisted troops, nine hundred veterans, and almost two thousand conscripts. Do you know how much it will cost?"

Ætharr grinned, "Trade has been good to us, Judos. A pact between unions lead to much wealth, and we've obtained more profit from the Millar lands." The Millar tribe had been scattered and driven out, leaving their large resources to Calador. The population was in the midst of a boom, so that the army would double in size, or so Ætharr planned.

Judos sighed at the prospect. It was going to be a massive campaign.

He headed out of the hall, and saw Ptolemy and Jinn approaching. Judos had a feeling of uneasiness every time he saw Jinn; the weasel was so clever, so sly, even his position of relaxation seemed to suggest that he was holding some dark secret behind clenched teeth.

Ptolemy was just as clever, but his was more of an intelligence that related more to education and logic. Ptolemy was also a far more appealing character than Jinn. Nevertheless, Ætharr trusted both of them completely as his two closest advisers. Judos greeted them both warmly.

Jinn smiled at Judos, whom he had not seen in a long time, "How goes it as a theign?"

Judos returned the smile, "Better than operating Calador's security."

Jinn's smile faltered, and then recognized the humour with a chuckle as he headed inside to speak to Ætharr. Ptolemy lingered outside to speak to the otter, "You mock him."

Judos shrugged, "I always feel challenged by that weasel. He seems to scrutiny you with his eyes and simple words."

Ptolemy glanced at where the lithe weasel had gone into the hall, "He is one of Ætharr's most redoubtable friends. I've known him for a long time, he's a good creature."

Judos sighed, "As you have it. How are your boys?"

Ptolemy smiled, "They are well. They miss your lessons, but I try my best to make up for it."

He was referring to the fact that Judos' education level was now being repeated all over Calador. Ætharr had enjoyed it, while some of the older Calador citizens had resented it. Even such older beasts as Ulric questioned the knowledge being filtered into the young minds of the new generation. Judos was labouring to have both males and females being taught together for the very first time in Calador history. This was still a new idea, but the winds of controversy and heated debate would bring it up soon enough.

Ptolemy looked at the otter, "Have you told him of your plans?"

Judos nodded, "Ætharr says he will bring it up the next time he calls the theigns to council."

Ptolemy grunted, and clapped Judos on the shoulder, "Well, until then." He turned to follow Jinn into the hall.

As a theign, Judos' duty was to find all weasels eligible for the fyrd. Many weasel families had at least three adult males in the house, with a few boys that were only a season or two away from the eligible age, and it was Judos' job to take these adults, and decide for himself whether the youths were able to carry their weight in war.

As Judos feared, many farmers were angry: crops were never successful in time of war. Mothers would weep and clutch their children in an attempt to protect them. Judos had seen enough family grief in the last week, even without this census taking.

He consulted Selma, who had accompanied him to write everything down, "What do I do now?" It was the third house that Judos had visited so far, and he was now faced with the dilemma of who was fit for military service.

Selma sighed, "It's hard to do, Judos, but it must be done. The way to become the most powerful country is to be most prepared for war. These farmers went through the military training and doubtless fought off Millars from their land. They need to develop their land, but they must also contribute to the war."

Judos sighed, and knew that while this was hurting his conscience, he would have no idea how greatly his conscience would be hurt when Ætharr would finally reveal his master plan.


	9. Chapter 9

**8**

Ætharr sat in the hall, looking around at the rest of the people enjoying themselves.

The Ealdor had come to ensure that Vogel and Burg contributed troops to the expedition. While this stern reason underlay his visit, he covered it up by holding a party in Vogel's hall. Ironically, it was close to where he had first been called Ealdor. The memory did not help his troubled mind.

He had come for a darker reason. One that played right into his plan against the Loptrio tribe. He needed Vogel's participation, and if the weasel would not cooperate, then he'd have to find someone else and fast.

So he was nervous, and in his nervousness he began to drink some of the strongest ale that Calador produced. He knew that he should not drink too much, but it steadied his nerves.

He looked around at the other prominent members of Calador's ruling class. Ptolemy and Judos were there, seated comfortably, speaking together. Craterus was standing off to the side, his large figure held stiffly in this setting. Craterus seemed to feel awkward in this place, and Ætharr couldn't help but feel sorry for the rugged fighter.

One-eyed Rojo, captain of Ætharr's bodyguard, helped himself to a meal of roast fish and potatoes, washing it down with a lighter ale than what many of the others were drinking. Young Gyras sat with Rojo, drinking mostly water as he indulged his hunger.

In the center of the hall, male weasels played the instruments, while females danced wildly with the acrobatic skills of Calador weasels. The instruments were well played, and the lithe movements of the weasels were not unnoticed in that crowd.

Ætharr smiled at Ædall, sitting next to him, "Times like this makes you wish you weren't married, cousin?"

Ædall shuddered, "You've had too much to drink, Ætharr."

The Ealdor's wide grin faltered, "Come now, Ædall, all in good jest."

Ædall merely shrugged, "I remember a time when you said the drink broke a creature's rationality and his ability."

Ætharr smiled contentedly, "I still believe that. However, I shall berate myself later."

Horal and Jinn came up, "Greetings, old friends!"

Ætharr roared with happiness, embracing both creatures. Ædall too smiled and welcomed them, "It's good to have all my old friends together in the same damn room again!" He beckoned to Ptolemy and Judos, who joined the four friends.

Ætharr looked at the faces watching him and felt truly happy; he had it good, he thought. These five friends were true and loyal; not one of them even considered betraying him, and he could rely on them all. In the middle of his emotional contentment, he lifted his goblet, "To old friends and their families!"

The five creatures smiled and raised their glasses in return, and began to sit around their lord and friend.

Ætharr noticed Judos looked nervous. The otter seemed to be bothered a lot these days, the weasel thought, and in his hazy mood, Ætharr figured that Judos was worried about the new campaign against the Loptrio tribe. Well, no matter. His plan would make it much easier for them to attack.

He looked around, to where Rosheen stood, little Nuala at her side. Rosheen had a discontented look about her face, and young Nuala looked very uneasy in this party atmosphere. The logical voice in the back of Ætharr's mind cursed himself for having brought his young daughter along with him. It had seemed bad to leave her behind without her father, and so he had brought Rosheen and now they would hear of this. Unless he could get rid of them somehow.

He got up towards them, kissing them both.

Rosheen gave him a questioning look, "You're drunk."

Ætharr grinned ruefully and shrugged, "I'll be fine." He could hear the slur of his own speech.

Nuala, with all childishness, asked why Daddy was wobbling. Ætharr laughed at that and gave her another kiss.

Rosheen put a paw on Ætharr's shoulder to steady him, "It's about the boys, isn't it?"

Ætharr paused, remembering the look on Ædelmær's face when they took him away, and all the joy from before fled from his mind.

Rosheen offered a pained look, "Why did you have to do that to them? It's hurting you so much! It's hurting me so much! And they'll never forget how their parents did nothing to save them."

Ætharr lifted up his paws, "I went through the same thing and I grew up fine!"

Rosheen looked at him increduously, "Ætharr you have nightmares twice a week, and you never mention your father's name!"

Ætharr spoke again, "I do not blame him for what he did! I didn't blame him as a child! Our sons are due home in three weeks and it will all be over!"

Rosheen looked at him with a hard-set look, "They'll not forget it, Ætharr. And neither will you." Taking Nuala by the hand, she went to leave.

Ætharr called after her, "Where will you be staying?"

Rosheen turned and spoke to him, "I'm going back to Æthelly."

Ætharr did a double take that he would only do when drunk, and turned to one of the guards standing around, "Sagleus! My wife and daughter will be going home tonight. Take forty sober troops and escort them home!"

Rosheen nodded, "Thank-you, Ætharr."

He lifted his arm in a half gesture, "I'm sorry." He suddenly felt miserable. He and Rosheen rarely fought, and when they did, they were usually quite civil, but he still felt angry after each one. Angry and miserable.

Then again, a little voice in his head spoke, it might be useful for you tonight.

Ætharr sat back down next to Judos, who took the opportunity to speak to him, "How's Rosheen?"

Ætharr shrugged, "She's well. She'll be better when the boys come back."

Judos gave him a sympathetic look, "You know, this is the first time I've ever seen you drink heavily to quench sorrow."

Ætharr grinned, "Normally I let it fester inside of me until I sleep."

Judos sighed and took the smallest of sips from his goblet, "I hear that Vogel and Burg are unhappy."

They looked to where the theigns were sitting. Burg was pre-occupied with one of the serving girls, while Vogel stared balefully into space drinking deeply from his goblet.

Ætharr grunted, "Burg will not betray me. He didn't betray me when I was at my weakest, and neither did Vogel. But Vogel must be dealt with sometime."

Judos nodded, "How are the recruiters coming along?"

Ætharr grinned, "The numbers are all in as expected, Judos. We march to war on time, give them a hard thrashing, and then I'll come home to my sons' return from their training."

Suddenly a voice rang out, "A toast! A toast!"

Judos and Ætharr looked to where Vogel was standing upright, waving his full goblet in mock solemnity.

The drunk theign continued, "A toast to good times and prosperous people!"

The others in the crowd repeated the words and drank, but Vogel continued.

"And to the war that our Ealdor will lead us in! A war that should expect much riches to those who are _invited to attend_!"

Ætharr heard the sound in Vogel's tone and did not like it, "You have something to say, Vogel? Say it where it matters."

Vogel gave a mock bow, "My master! I have no charge against your greatness! The one who made me theign of a swamp for more than twenty-five seasons!"

Ætharr looked at Vogel in amusement, "A swamp? In the last ten seasons, you've gained good Millar land as your charge. And since you've made me bring it up, how is that settlement going?"

Vogel was stung by the reminder of how his administration was not the best since his drinking. He spoke up, "I managed it for all these years very well, and sheltered you from your uncle!"

Ætharr paused, surprised by the mention of the traitor who arranged for his brother the Ealdor's murder and persecuted Calador for many seasons.

Vogel went on, "I'll mention Ælfer's name, Ætharr. And that of Ællear your father! I'm not going to forget the past because it makes you cry."

Ætharr answered quickly, "Will you also mention plots of taking the Ealdorship for yourself, as you have thundered in the alehouses the last few seasons?"

The room went silent now. This was treason being dabbled around.

Burg looked at Vogel in surprise and hastily stood up to speak to Ætharr, "Ealdor, please, forgive him for his hasty words..."

"That will do, Burg. You have no place in this quarrel and I want to keep it that way." Ætharr interrupted. Burg nodded reluctantly and sat down again.

Vogel chuckled and leered at Burg. He spoke in a loud voice that dripped with insult, "So you quake before the all-mighty, do you not? You spineless cur, you and all the others who say sweet things in his ear. People like Ptolemy, Gyras, Horal!"

With each name, he stared at the person and spoke with as much contempt as he could.

Judos was surprised at Vogel's wandering tongue. As the otter looked, he could see that the others were quite offended. Gyras, always so hot-tempered, had almost stood up before being pulled down by one of his bodyguards. Ptolemy looked at Vogel under furrowed brows, while Horal growled to himself.

Ætharr knew he had to get Vogel out of the room for this to work properly. Ben and Lanvor had their orders and would secretly arrive here tomorrow.

He shouted out, "Vogel!"

The weasel turned sardonically toward him, "Your Highness?"

"You've said just enough that can be blamed on the drink in your hand. Depart with decency and take rest!"

The gauntlet was thrown now. The theigns suddenly ordered everyone but themselves out of the room. Judos watched as the others departed and felt scared.

Vogel's face molted into a furious glare, "Decency? Decency coming out of your mouth when you place outsiders over those who saved your life and protected you as a child?"

Judos and Rojo suddenly stood up angrily. Ætharr waved themm down and said, "They have been more help than you have ever been, Vogel!"

"Look at these words!" Vogel burst out angrily as Craterus and Burg tried to take him out of the room forcibly. He fought against them, screaming out his words at Ætharr, "You betray the image of Calador itself! What would your ancestors say if they saw you now!"

Ætharr normally would not have run forward to attack Vogel, but he had drunk too much that night. However he never reached Vogel for he was restrained by Gyras, Rojo, and Ædall. The others crowded around to prevent a fight, but also did not wish to interfere too greatly.

"Arrest him for treason!" Ætharr swore in his fury as he lunged forward again.

"Get Vogel out of here!" Judos called out, trying to quell the madness. He turned to a number of Ætharr's bodyguards to help restrain both drunk weasels.

Vogel continued to yell, "You are no longer an Ealdor, you're a damn tyrant, a despot! So what happened to Keld, eh! Who did you send to kill him?"

Ætharr roared in anger, but in the back of his mind, he noticed a spear being carried by one of the guards.

Vogel spoke in a more contemptuous voice, "Your father would have been ashamed to see you become the way you are! It's certainly a merciful thing that he died before seeing all this!"

Ætharr gave a cry of anger that he had not made all night, and grabbed the spear from a guard. He plunged it right into Vogel's neck, the point coming out the back. Vogel did not even have time to whimper; he was dead before he hit the ground.

The theigns stared in horror at the body. Vogel had certainly spoken words that were fit for treason, but nobody here could have imagined that he would be killed for it.

Ætharr looked at the body and felt paralyzed by the thought of what he had done. Had he really allowed himself to lose control and kill a theign?

In the back of his mind, he knew that it had to be done. It was now time to prepare the plot to defeat the Loptrio once and for all. And the death of a theign had been necessary to begin the plan.


	10. Chapter 10

**9**

Judge Thael was immediately summoned back to Pharen by the swiftest of Opac's messengers. The five companions waited in the city, private guests of Opac. The King was willing to do anything so that they would leave all the more hastily, and so he agreed to Skipper's demands that the otters of his guard be given to aid them.

For the five friends knew that to truly lay out proper justice on their terms, they would have to lead a coup against the Abbey and take over power from the Abbott. This would be a violation of many seasons of peace at Redwall, and if it failed, it would forever stain Redwall.

There was no question; it had to succeed, and without bloodshed. Nobody knew what would happen when they attacked, but in case anyone resisted, they would mount a surprise attack and arrest Varrus before he could get away.

Skipper and Jander headed into Mossflower to assemble Hella (who had not gone with them to Pharen, but left to assemble the otters in Mossflower) and other volunteers, which left Adisa, Warbeak, and Elial to rest in Pharen.

The three of them sat together in their room, eating a small dinner courtesy of Opac.

Adisa looked at Elial, "So what will you do when all this is over?"

Elial paused, "Well, I've been wondering about that for a long time."

Warbeak looked at the old fox, "You've been a traveller all your life?"

Elial shrugged, "I've stayed at different places for different times to raise my children. God knows I failed at that." He shuddered, thinking of his past. Adisa suddenly felt sad for this old mercenary; he too was feeling the sting of the past and he was questioning what could have changed in his life.

Warbeak pecked at a candied chestnut. In between mouthfuls, she spoke, "I will return to live at Redwall. I've long wanted to come back to where I once lived."

Adisa smiled, "I'm glad you have something to look forward to."

Warbeak looked at the civet, "You're a wanderer too?"

Adisa shrugged unhappily, "Ever since that terrible massacre of my people."

Elial sighed, "That was a bad time for everyone involved. Many suffered."

Adisa looked at Elial, "You saved your son."

Elial grimaced, "Aye, and he was apparently blamed for it all. Isn't that what Hella said? That her sister blamed my son for the deaths of her siblings?"

Warbeak nodded, "How could she have deluded herself to think that your child could possibly have been responsible for the deaths of her family?"

"Coldbane represented the influence of outsiders on her mother and Hella. She believed they were delusional," Elial replied bitterly.

Adisa sighed, "Where is Coldbane now? You never speak about him."

Elial sighed shakily, "He is dead."

Adisa put a paw on Elial's lap. Normally the old fox was so sardonic and cynical and detached, but this was a tender spot for him, "How long?"

Elial shrugged, "I don't know for sure. I lose track of time, but it wasn't so long ago. See, as he grew up, he became destined to follow my path. I had hoped he would not become like me and wander forever through the world, and he didn't. He lived in Vireo for much of his life, and remained loyal to King Nero. He died in the great war down amongst the vermin clans."

Warbeak looked pained, though her face was not well designed to display different signs of emotion, "I'm sorry."

Elial tried to shake it off, "Most of my children are dead. I've come to accept it. One could even say it's my punishment."

Adisa leaned back, afraid of saying something to that. He personally agreed that the punishment was not altogether undeserved, but he would not dream of saying that to Elial.

Elial suddenly looked up, "I will stay in Redwall, I think. Live out the last seasons of my life in a peaceful, holy place."

Adisa stared at the old fox, but could suddenly understand why the old fox would come to that decision. Where else could he go?

Warbeak chirped cheerfully, "You'd be welcome if I'd have a say."

Elial gave a wry grin, looking like himself again, "That means a lot, Warbeak."

They began to chuckle to themselves as they continued to speak together, and it was almost as though they'd forgotten the reasons they were there in the first place.

Adisa felt a surge of happiness in his heart. This was the calmest, happiest time that the three of them had shared together since getting to know each other. Maybe such moments could continue if they stayed together.

Elial had been right, he had thought. Maybe Redwall was a place for wanderers to take root and find content. Maybe, just maybe...

Then he thought of Varrus and all happiness left him. Could he really separate Redwall from Varrus? Could the scars heal after so long?

" "" " "" "" "" " """" " """ "" """

Varrus sat in his comfortable chair, relaxing after a long day.

Conrad continued to speak out against the Abbey's administration, claiming that he'd seen the light and the error of his ways. He was continually disciplined for his disrespect, but Varrus dared not punish him too much, not wanting to make him a martyr. Instead, he made Conrad's life difficult in little ways.

Mother Sara was also acting remarkably distant, but maybe that was because she was throwing herself into work these days. Varrus was astonished at how little time she seemed to give herself. Every time he felt like speaking to her concerning an issue, she seemed out of sight busy with something. Odd, but not entirely unlike her.

Varrus sighed contentedly as he ate a small meal. The Abbey, at long last, was returning to normal. Jander and Skipper were due back soon, and outside of Conrad, there was no more trouble. Varrus wondered if he could have Conrad expelled on account of claiming false visions. That would certainly gain support in the Abbey, for Conrad's attempts to antagonize Varrus were gradually drawing the Abbey dwellers to their leader instinctively. They did not want to face the trouble that Conrad seemed to hint at.

Yes, he thought. Conrad could be expelled tonight even. The thought of removing this last opposition filled Varrus with a deep joy. He could finally be completely at peace.

He got up and went off to assemble the Holy Brothers and Sisters of Redwall in order to hold a quick trial of Brother Conrad.


	11. Chapter 11

**10**

Ætharr had sworn everyone to secrecy on the topic of Vogel's death. Anyone who found out would be executed without trial. The theigns did not protest at all. And they knew about Jinn's spies being everywhere, so they knew that Ætharr meant it when he said he'd find out if anyone told.

Judos was disgusted by this. Ætharr was getting away with murder, on a flimsy pretence that Vogel had been discussing rebellion. Was this the same weasel he'd met in Klinus' prison cell and had exchanged deep conversation?

Not even Rosheen knew about it, and Ætharr seemed very keen on keeping it that way.

Ætharr dismissed the theigns when he was sure that they would keep their word, but he himself did not depart. He dismissed them with as much cheer as he could muster, for these were dark times for them all.

Judos did not depart either, but he did so without anyone's knowledge. He had had a bad feeling about Vogel's death, and so, as he walked with Ptolemy, he suddenly turned to the weasel, "I'm heading towards the frontier."

Ptolemy frowned, "Really? Why?"

Judos knew this was a dangerous moment. Ptolemy was a questioning person, and he'd wonder about Judos' decision, maybe even ask his friends as to what that had been about. So Judos had to deceive Ptolemy for the moment, and the otter had a story ready.

The otter pulled out a folded piece of parchment, "One of my good friends in the army is on the frontier, and his family has begged me to deliver this to him."

Ptolemy raised an eyebrow, "He must be a good friend if you go so far to deliver it yourself."

Judos shrugged, "He saved my life at Verfluchtes Land."

Ptolemy nodded; he had been at that battle as a common soldier, "That was a hard battle, to be sure." He smiled, "Well, good luck."

"Thank-you Ptolemy" Judos replied but the weasel had already turned to head for his home, and delivered nothing more than a cheerful wave of his paw in final reply.

Judos made a wide detour and began to head back Vogel's hall. The going would have been slow, due to the swampy ground, but it was at times like this that made Judos grateful that he was an otter.

As he waded along through the waterways, he wondered who would replace Vogel. Another loyal soldier that Ætharr trusted to be loyal and strong? Judos sighed; it seemed that several theigns had been replaced in too short a time for his liking. Judos hoped that his friend knew what he was doing.

Thinking about Vogel, Judos wondered about that terrible night. The image came back to him; Vogel taunting his Ealdor, that scornful voice so slurred with drink, and his look of agony and shock when a furious Ætharr had stabbed him through the neck. The look of shame and guilt on Ætharr's face as he stared at those around him.

Judos had a bad feeling about the whole affair. He wondered why Ætharr had allowed himself to get so carried away. Judos had always seen Ætharr settle such arguments rather than participate in them. He had stopped a fight between Judos and Blackback, and had tried to find a compromise between the two. So why had he allowed himself to be so angry now?

It was a question that he needed to answer for himself. He didn't like the ideas implied, and knew that he had to discover what all this was about.

So he returned to Vogel's hall by stealth, and entered silently through a side door that had been open for some reason. Judos had not been stopped by any guards nor had he been detected at all. The atmosphere chilled his soul as he snuck through the shadows.

Suddenly he heard quiet voices. The only discernable word Judos could pick out was a muffled, 'Master'. It sounded vaguely familiar to Judos, but he was not sure.

He crept closer to the voices, and dialogue became audible. Judos suddenly heard Ætharr speak in a muffled voice,

"You both know your orders. You must not be seen. And you must travel quickly. I've sent advance word up ahead that Vogel was murdered alone. That will hopefully make it easier."

Easier for what? Judos thought as he leaned out of the shadows for the barest moment to look around the corner. He made out three people standing there before ducking back. He wondered who these other two people were.

Suddenly the first voice Judos had heard spoke again, "Master, we will not disappoint."

Ætharr's voice spoke again, full of kindness, "You never do, Lanvor."

Lanvor. Judos thought of that large, muscular weasel that had a face bereft of deep intelligence or compassion. He had been one of the survivors of the ambush that had killed Ællear, Ætharr's father. Ætharr used him sparingly, more as a trump card that he would use in a game when everything was at stake. If Lanvor was being instructed, this was important. Judos shuddered with a sudden fear. Did he want to hear the rest?

Suddenly, a third voice spoke, "Ætharr, are you sure they'll believe us?"

Judos froze in shock. Ben! The shillelagh-wielding raccoon who worked for hire. What was he doing here?

Ætharr spoke again, "They know that Keld was murdered in the forest some time ago. You can always use that as further proof that you have been against me from the start."

Lanvor's voice spoke up, "When do we deliver the bastard's head?"

Tremors ran through Judos' bowels, even as Ætharr spoke up sternly, "Vogel was no bastard. Just a fool who had lost faith in me through drink."

"Forgive me, master. But what of Vogel's head?"

"Deliver it to them at their discretion. You'll have to surrender your arms if need be, and they may torture you, but if Cecilio and the other Loptrio leaders see the head and hear from you that Keld was killed by your paws, then maybe that will be enough."

Lanvor spoke again, "I will go through the torture with resignation, and I will confess nothing important to them."

"Good, Lanvor. I trusted you would do that. What about you Ben?"

There was a pause, and then, "I stay hidden and while Lanvor gains their trust I shall help him from the outside."

"Good. Now hasten off to the Loptrio lands. Make sure the head doesn't decompose before you get there."

Ben's voice chimed in, "Don't worry, I know a way to preserve it long enough for us to get to Loptrio."

"Make sure to contact me somehow with news and then I shall strike. Good luck."

Judos was already gone even before Ætharr had finished his sentence. He was already running out of the hall, out of the fort in the swamp, diving into the water so his screams of horror would be drowned in the depths of mud and water.

He was revolted. He couldn't believe that Ætharr had done it. Behead Vogel and use his death for such reasons. Judos almost vomited three times before forcing the bile back down.

He got up and began to head for the frontier. Since he had said he was going, he might as well go now. It would do him well to clear his head and think things out.

As he headed west, he wondered how Ætharr could do this. He had seemed above such things. Was this why he did it in complete secrecy? To hide his own darkest nature from the world? To hide the raw wounds in his soul that hurt him even now?

Judos wondered if he ought to stop by his hall and make sure Selma knew where he was. He ought to have an escort anyway.

The otter wondered what Lanvor and Ben were meant to accomplish while undercover in the Loptrio lands. But even as the thought entered his head, the image of a dead Vogel with a spear through his neck came to mind and he once again stopped himself from vomiting as he involuntarily wondered what the head looked like now.


	12. Chapter 12

**11**

Roaveen's first council as Badger Lord was long delayed. He would normally have done it immediately after the burial of the previous Badger Lord, according to tradition. However, it was a full season before he could do so, unprecedented for a Badger Lord to shirk tradition.

The Long Patrol officers lived in fear. Roaveen, during his time as Heir to the mountain, had formed a new army called the Mountain Regiment. As he had trained it over the seasons, it had grown and gained experience. Roaveen's presence made it very appealing to the leverets of the mountain, but they were torn between joining their relatives and friends in the Long Patrol, and serving in the new army.

So, Roaveen had made it a branch of the Long Patrol in equality. The officer numbers were not changed, and thus he allowed pawns from his regiment, notably Captain Krieg, to serve to gain him leverage in usurping the Long Patrol. He knew that some bitter enemies to his ascension held high command in the Long Patrol, and he sought to defeat them thoroughly to show them who was in command.

Korari had stood by in horror. He had not predicted that this would go so far. In the season before the first council, Korari waited with a nervous spirit. He tried to put his heart into administrating the mountain, but everything seemed shadowed by Roaveen's imminent return.

The reason that Korari was the caretaker for the mountain was because Roaveen was at war. He was leading the Mountain Regiment in their first ever campaign. He had spent hours planning out his strategies with his officers, and they headed out four days after the ceremonial funeral of Oakfur was over.

Roaveen was filled with joy as he marched his small but well-trained army out of Salamandastron. He had waited a long time for this. To prove himself a true Badger Lord.

"" " "" " " " ""

Roaveen's campaign had meant to last under two weeks, but eventually lasted so much longer because of his first success.

In the first days of the campaign, he led his Regiment south, against a sea rat colony that had been set up as a base from which to strike against their victims and repair ships. The colony was a week's march away from Salamandastron, which had allowed them to foresee any attempts to defeat them and head out to sea in time.

However, Roaveen had a secret weapon. He knew that the sea rats would be fooled by his plan, and he would be able to recover much wealth that the rats had stolen from honest creatures now dead. He would show these vermin that he had no pity for such creatures as them.

He looked at Krieg, marshaling half of the two hundred hares that made up his Mountain Regiment. The Captain would head straight down the beach initially, then would attempt to encircle the camp and take them by surprise.

Roaveen had taken the other hundred troops, including the two corporals Sophus and Ormund. Both were fine soldiers and entering the prime of their life. Ormund was physically the stronger, with one of his eyes a permanent red colour, while Sophus was well characterized by his heightened vocabulary and foppish behaviour. Both were charismatic leaders but threatened to be independent in battle. Thus, Roaveen decided to keep them under his command.

He turned to them, "When Krieg gives the signal to attack, we must move fast. We must strike them where they least expect it."

Ormund nodded, "Yes, my lord."

Sophus turned to the nearest hares, "Ho there! Amass yourselves and anticipate the inevitable!"

Ormund chuckled as the hares, who after having endured Sophus' speech for so long, completely understood him and went to their places.

Roaveen turned back to the darkening south, lit by the setting sun as it came down. This would decide whether he could continue his campaign or not.

Even as he looked, Krieg advanced his half of the troops towards the fortified camp.

The camp was surrounded by a wooden palisade, with a walking platform for the sea rats to walk on and view the surrounding lands for enemies.

Krieg had long been a soldier in the Long Patrol, but had never been promoted despite his experience or his record. It had filled him with a resentment against the Long Patrol and its officers, which made his rise in the Mountain Regiment all the more sweet.

As they approached, they heard the yells of alarm by sea rats as they began amassing torches on the walls. Krieg could see the shadowy masses scurrying around as they screeched and yelled. He heard a whistling noise and knew that they were firing their arrows. However, the sea rats had overestimated the range of their shafts in their surprise. It was a deadly mistake, and Krieg knew that it would cost them dearly.

He now called for the archers to launch their fire arrows. Fifty hare longbows, as big as those used by the Long Patrol, were drawn, and a hail of fire arrows flew through the air in a massive arc over the wall and down amongst the sea rats.

A light appeared behind the walls, and Krieg laughed with relief, knowing that buildings were catching on fire. The rats became prominent in the light, and immediately the hare longbows played their music again. Shaft after shaft poured onto the ranks of sea rats on the walls.

Krieg noted the drastic thinning in their ranks, and knew now was the time to attack. Turning to the ranks of hares, he called out, "Charge!"

The Regiment pounded forward, carrying ready-made ladders to climb over the walls. Krieg kept twenty archers back to continue providing cover fire.

The hares quickly scaled the ladders, and began fighting the guards on the wall. Looking out to sea, Krieg could see that the rats were attempting to escape to their ships.

Two of the archers noticed it too, "What do we do now? Cut them off until Lord Roaveen arrives?"

Krieg watched one of the ships approaching the beach line. He chuckled, "I think he's already here."

He was right.

As soon as the nearest group of sea rats approached the ship, a loud yell sounded from the ship, and three dozen torches suddenly lit the boat.

Out leaped a massive figure in armour, wielding a sword and shield. It could only have been Roaveen, and the long-limbed warriors coming up behind their lord could only have been hares.

The sea-rats were completely trapped. Krieg's troops were closing in from the north, and Roaveen had cut them from their ships. This left them to leap over their own walls and retreat as fast as they could.

At the end of it, Roaveen had acquired three new ships, much of the sea rats' loot, and the hunger to attack them further.

Roaveen held a small council of war with those who held command of any sort in the regiment. Captain Krieg was there, as were Sophus and Ormond. Leaflock, the most popular of the soldiers in the mountain regiment, was now a sergeant along with the grizzled veteran Sergeant Liofe.

"I say we continue on. Drive out other such settlements of sea rats along the coast. We should head north, between here and the Highlands." Krieg spoke.

Roaveen's eyes darkened automatically at the thought of his brother in the Highlands, "King Priam can deal with it can he not?"

Ormond voiced an opinion, "Lord, if we can scour the coastline of pirates, we'll build better relations with potential allies. Plus we'll get more opportunities to more trade routes inland and northward."

Roaveen nodded. It was the logical thing to do, and effective at that. He turned to the rest, "Anything else to add?"

Sophus shook his head, but Liofe raised a paw, "My Lord, to do as is suggested would take much longer than any kind of campaign we envisioned. You shall have to delay the Council of the Badger Lord. Such a thing has never been done in the history of Salamandastron. The Badger Lord has always had the First Council within the first few weeks of his ascension."

Roaveen grimaced, "I have little interest in that one piece of tradition. We must ascertain our situation along our coast line. It would be best to postpone that meeting."

Sophus looked worried, "Are you absolutely positive that that resolution is expedient in this situation?"

Roaveen smiled darkly, "I have nothing to say to the Officers of the Long Patrol that they will enjoy hearing."

"" "" "" " "" """ "" " "" " " " """" """ "" "

And so Lord Roaveen had been away for a full season, meeting with other societies within the radius, driving out smugglers and raiders, and accumulating wealth for Salamandastron.

The first news had been the ten new ships that Roaveen said would be a sufficient navy for Salamandastron to control the waters around the mountain. The news was also delivered that once he returned, the long delayed First Council would finally be done with.


	13. Chapter 13

**12**

Korari was astounded at the arrival of the ships, crewed by a large group of hired sea otters and about a score of the Mountain Regiment. The ten ships were in mixed shape; two of them were in superb condition, while three were completely unworthy of being used again. The other five would need to be heavily repaired before they could be used again.

Korari was curious in this sudden fascination in a navy, but nevertheless saw to it that Roaveen's orders were carried out. Troops of hares were sent out to collect wood to repair the damaged ships.

One of the Mountain Regiment to come back was Leaflock, and Korari rejoiced to see his young friend again. He had watched Leaflock grow from a small child to a strong young hare, just at the cusp of adulthood. Leaflock was also happy to see the kindly badger.

Leaflock had a lot of admiration for Roaveen, his hero from childhood, and he spent a great deal of time relaying how Roaveen was liberating the coastline, and how he was establishing new trade agreements with Guosim colonies and sea otter clans along the ocean's end, north and south of Salamandastron. Korari was fascinated by this idea of extensive foreign policy, but was nonetheless uncertain as he watched Salamandastron's long history of tradition altered at Roaveen's whim.

He could not help but agree with Leaflock though; the ships had a lot of potential. Rarely had the hares of Salamandastron fought sea rats on their own terms; rather, they would await invasions and confront them as they came ashore. This new offensive strategy against vermin was certainly commendable on Roaveen's part.

Roaveen returned after a full season since he'd left, and never before had a Badger Lord returned to Salamandastron in such splendour as Roaveen did that day.

The badger came at the head of a depleted force, but was heavily bolstered by troops of sea otters, moles, shrews, and squirrels, along with a few creatures unique to the shorelines. There were even three toad warriors who provided an escort for an especially ugly specimen who seemed to be dressed as a king in toad culture.

With them, the procession carried enormous amounts of food in all variances. Much of it was in seeds and grain; but there was also much of it grown and ready to be prepared. Also with them were boundless amounts of treasure recovered from the marauders and pirates that harboured frequently along the coast.

Roaveen walked before it all like a true king. His father's armour was long gone; doubtless it had been destroyed during the many skirmishes he had fought against the vermin. He now wore a set of plate armour that was unlike any craft that Salamandastron had seen since Oakfur had been young. Roaveen's plate armour was of the finest steel, laced with a thin layer of silver, over which were crested runes of Badger lore in a dark mix of bronze and gold. Beneath this plate armour, which covered much of his body, he had a light coat of chain mail. He carried a new shield to go along with this, and his sword, reforged and refined. He wore no cloak, but did have leather gloves lined with the feathers of a bird that none could see.

Korari noticed this particular fashion and felt sickened for a moment at his older brother's lack of taste in wearing another creature on his paws. He knew that Roaveen had plundered it from the sea rats, but it still didn't make it right.

However, Roaveen came in to much astonishment and celebration. He himself was the master of the ceremony, a smile on his face as he ordered about the creatures behind him and the hares in front of him.

Seahawk and Jackers came out of the mountain, looking astonished, but still irritated. They had been complaining for a season about how Roaveen was shirking his proper duties as a Badger Lord.

If Roaveen was angry at their expressions, he showed no ill will. Smiling upon them, he spoke in a kind, lordly voice, "Old friends, how is my mountain?"

Seahawk kept his voice courteous; Roaveen was the Badger Lord no matter what, "Lord, we have anxiously awaited your return. How did your campaign fare?"

Roaveen gave a booming chuckle, and gestured with his sword, "See for yourselves, friends. I have much to speak to you about. For now, we shall make our guests comfortable."

The guests seemed to have mixed responses to Roaveen. Korari hoped that all would be made clear soon. In the meantime he escorted the toad king and his guards into the mountain, knowing that this was the first time that such repulsive creatures had ever set foot in the vast mountain.

Roaveen organized everything with his orders, and the orders were carried out chiefly by Korari and his lackeys. The badger had not been able to give his greetings to his older brother, and he hoped he could take his brother aside before the meeting.

He was disappointed, for he had barely seen to the food and treasures before Roaveen summoned him to the First Council.

So it came, this moment that had waited a season for its Badger Lord. The Colonel of Salamandastron, Seahawk, and Lieutenant Colonel Baliol were there, along with Major Jackers and the other three majors of the Long Patrol. None of the Captains of the Long Patrol had arrived.

There was one person missing; Brigadier Sinistra was dead, and nobody had been picked to replace him.

However, Krieg, a Captain and second in command of the Mountain Regiment, sat at Roaveen's side. Sophus and Ormond were also there, which was even more of a surprise considering the fact that neither of them held any true officer's rank. They were both corporals as of the hares' knowledge.

Roaveen and Korari sat opposite of each other, as was the custom for any badger who was not the Badger Lord to follow.

Roaveen spoke up first, "How have the affairs of the mountain been this past season?"

Seahawk spoke, "We have received little news except which your Lordship sends us while on your campaign."

Roaveen nodded. He spoke again, "That is well. I myself have returned from a victorious campaign against foes along the coastline. We have returned with delegates from various tribes and clans to discuss protection."

Seahawk frowned, "What do you mean, sire?"

Seahawk's confusion was well-placed. Salamandastron stood where the water was best to land, where sea rats would most like to land their ships in order to spread inland for plunder. How far down and up the coast was Roaveen intending to expand Salamandastron's influence?

Roaveen answered in his grave voice, "In exchange for tribute, we shall protect their settlements more intensively than we have done previously. In this sense, I'm talking about constructing forts and rotating guards. We shall receive food supplies and such things as we require."

This made much sense; Salamandastron had always been an isolated place, however much it protected the land from sea rats. They had very few people to look too when they needed something such as food or wood. Their food supplies had always been limited to what few crops could grow on the mountainside's few patches of fertile soil. This made their choices of food limited, and to now have access to such things through trade was a very interesting concept.

Korari was impressed. Roaveen had made a very interesting deal, but he wondered if it was so wise to spread the Long Patrol out across the coast. What if the mountain were under attack?

Before he could speak his thoughts out loud, Major Jackers spoke first, "In a case of attack, our hares would be spread out across these settlements."

Roaveen smiled, "It seems like that, indeed. But what this will achieve is a way to assemble allies faster to assist us in case of attack. These settlements we have these trade agreements with will surely be obligated to help their ally and protector."

Jackers sighed, "It's hard to assume such things in times of peace. We must not be so trusting of these creatures until we know for sure if they mean what they say."

Roaveen shrugged, "We'll find out soon enough."

Seahawk and Jackers were both plainly annoyed by this casualness from Roaveen, but neither would say so. They were of an older, more respectable age and they did not speak out so forcefully for such simple reasons.

However, Lieutenant Colonel Baliol, a hare that had long toadied to Roaveen, spoke up with an interesting question, "What are the toads doing here?"

Roaveen smiled, "I have slain their previous king in combat and drove many hundreds of them into the sea."

Jackers was astonished, and his voice revealed how surprised he was, "You seem to have won many victories with so few troops."

Roaveen's good nature faltered slightly, "I have lost several of my troops, yes. My victories could have been very costly if not for several lucky occasions. Not to mention the troops that our new allies sent when we passed through their settlements."

Korari frowned, "Crows scenting profit, surely?"

Roaveen gave him a little look, "They could have attacked me and sided with the toads."

Korari paused, thinking that over, and sighed, "They'll stay neutral when the toads win, putting no attention on themselves, but if you're winning, they'll side with you and claim a credit of assistance, Roaveen."

Roaveen glared at him suddenly, and Korari realized why; he was not calling Roaveen 'lord' or any sign of respect. Korari was shocked into silence; his own brother wanted him to treat him like his liege lord.

Roaveen waved his paw aside, "The toads are going to pay us in tribute to avoid further trouble. In the meantime, I have returned with my forces."

Now came the thing that every officer of the Long Patrol had been dreading. What was to be done with this problem of Mountain Regiment and Long Patrol?

Roaveen spoke immediately, as if he had been long waiting to say this and was now at last able to give the command, "The Long Patrol, in honour of Salamandastron's tradition, will maintain its position, but as a Royal Guard. There will be no more recruitment into its ranks save for those veterans who have served the mountain well."

His orders were met with stunned silence. Roaveen had had several enemies in the Long Patrol High Command, but this was terrible vengeance beyond anything imagined. Korari almost fell back in his seat with shock.

Roaveen continued, "The Mountain Regiment shall become the main force of Salamandastron. The officers and their companies of the Long Patrol will be halved, and they shall be transferred to the Mountain Regiment."

The Long Patrol officers were shaken, except for Lieutenant Colonel Baliol, who seemed indifferent to it. Clearly Roaveen had spoken to him about this before. Korari noticed Baliol's lack of surprise, and then knew what else was coming up.

He sighed, and decided to make it quick, "So who shall assume the position of Brigadier, lord?"

Roaveen gave a very brief look of satisfaction that only Korari noticed, and then spoke, "I have chosen that Lieutenant Colonel Baliol will be promoted to the rank of Brigadier. His rank of Lieutenant Colonel will be given to Major Jackers, and Krieg shall assume the rank of Senior Major."

Krieg gave a solemn nod of thanks, as did Jackers, but it was clear that he was as satisfied with his promotion as Korari was concerning his brother's choices.

Roaveen looked at Ormund and Sophus, "These two shall become Captains after their faithful services in my campaign. Captain Fossler shall go into retirement after a long and fitful career."

This was the final straw for Korari; he stood up in shock, "How can this be?"

Roaveen looked at Korari calmly, but with a flash of anger, "Do you dispute my decisions?"

Korari was about to shout "Yes" with a roar, but checked his temper. He spoke in a quieter voice, "As admirable as Sophus and Ormund's contributions have been, they must be at least promoted into the officer class. They have not even achieved the rank of Ensign."

Roaveen gave a small smile that was neither completely arrogant nor completely malevolent, but left Korari feeling uneasy.

Roaveen spoke in a serious voice, not giving away any tone of scorn or bullying, "Ah, but I have promoted them over the course of this campaign several times. They now hold the rank of lieutenant, officially. Now I have once again given them rewards for their services."

Korari looked at Ormund and Sophus, who seemed a bit embarrassed, but did not deny what Roaveen was saying. Korari saw that Roaveen had been planning all of this for a long time now, and knew that he was even more devious and cunning than he had first feared. His manipulations rivalled the very intelligence that Thornback had been famous for before leaving the mountain. Where did that leave the rest of the occupants of Salamandastron, Korari thought.

But deep down, he could not deny that Roaveen was not being evil or bad, he was just acting biased and against all traditions. He was acting in a way that was most convenient for him. He was promoting those who would owe him, he was keeping his opponents at a respectful distance without offending them (as Jackers' promotion signified) and he was placing his own creation in the foreground of the military.

Finally, Seahawk got up, "My Lord you go too far against the valued traditions of our Mountain. Never before has the Long Patrol been treated in this way."

Roaveen looked upon Seahawk without smiling, but without aggression either. He spoke again in a strangely innocent voice, "And why not? Nothing says that a Badger Lord may not exercise that power. I am merely the only one who chooses to do so."

Seahawk opened his mouth with a flabbergasted expression on his face. However, he said nothing and sat back down again.

Korari wanted to punch Roaveen in the face. His older brother was exercising those absolute controls that no Badger Lord had touched upon since Lord Stonepaw, father of Brocktree. This was a complete change in everything that they knew.

Roaveen stood up, "Unlike my father, I know what I am capable of doing as Badger Lord, and if it benefits the mountain, I shall do so."

The rest of the Council stood up as he left the room, followed by his officers of the Mountain Regiment, and the newly promoted Brigadier Baliol. And silently, the defeated council members hung their heads in complete shock over what had happened. There was just nothing to say.


	14. Chapter 14

**13**

The first wave of attackers would be led by Skipper, Jander, and Hella. They would storm the north wall of Redwall and make sure the guards were immobilized. The second wave of attackers would rush through the main entrance, which would be opened by either Brother Conrad, Sara, Foremole, or Vinicio the Cellarhog. This group, led by Adisa and Elial, would seal off all entrances so that no Redwaller could escape. That done, the attackers would capture Varrus and put him on a trial for the crimes that he had committed. Judge Thael would be with Adisa and Elial so that the guards would not resist or the Redwallers would fight back against the invaders. Warbeak would provide advanced warning from her excellent view point as a bird.

This would be the first time that an army had conquered Redwall and held it. Cluny had come very close but had failed when Matthias counter-attacked with the help of shrews and sparrows. Slagar the Cruel had entered the Abbey under a disguise but had not tried to conquer it, General Ironbeak had tried and failed, so many had dreamed of storming Redwall and taking it for themselves. None had succeeded. Adisa wondered if his Gods were looking to him tonight.

They were crowded around Redwall, which seemed quite peaceful in the night air. Slowly, the squirrels and otters were being placed in their positions of attack.

Adisa strode through the dark edges of the forest, trying not to notice how the otters and squirrels avoided him for being a civet. Instead, he tried to look for one of his companions. In particular he searched for Skipper or Jander, for he had greatly enjoyed their company over the last few days. He had seen Hella, but she had been too preoccupied to share thoughts with him.

Hella had made a public confession before Judge Thael and her peers. Skipper, her fiance, had vouched for her, as had Adisa and Jander. Hella had confessed to the grisly murder of Slade, and had provided the back story to motive. Thael had been disturbed by the details of the murder, but had admired the fact that she had confessed and seemed to recognize how much of a crime of passion it had been. He promised to review her case with consideration to the matter, but Hella had still felt subdued over admitting such a heinous crime to so many of the people she knew. Adisa hoped she would recover before the fight began.

Adisa moved on past trenches and small barricades that concealed warriors, and noticed Elial.

The old fox was seated upon a tree stump that was dark green and molded with age. Elial seemed to have a comfortable seat, as isolated as it was from the rest. Being a fox, there was little love for him in the assembled groups.

Adisa was nervous about the upcoming events. This was what he had promised his parents' spirits would happen. He had vowed to bring down Abbott Varrus and deliver justice to where it was needed the most. He had offered a dozen prayers to each of the Gods he had prayed to since childhood. He had offered small sacrifices to them for good fortune, yet still he desired someone's reassurance of what was to come. Someone like Skipper, who knew how to run a military operation but was still a very social person.

Elial was not as good of an example; he was too cynical and harsh. However, Adisa was willing to endure it. Maybe the fox was lonely as well, upon that meagre little stump. He ought to try.

He sat down next to Elial, "So? What do you make of it so far?"

Elial's expression did not change, "They'll get through. But they're antsy about attacking a holy place. I can pick up their concerns, they hang over them like a fog. Redwall is a place of goodness that they've defended for hundreds of seasons. To attack it now would go against everything they've ever learned. It's hard to break your beliefs."

Adisa nodded awkwardly, "Well, it is for the righteous path. We have all given so much to this by now that to stop now because of some belief would be disastrous."

Elial smiled cynically, "Does it really make that much of a difference to these creatures? They probably don't know what we're taking the Abbey for. They just blindly trust their leaders and follow them to whatever they want. No wonder Varrus survived so long as he did."

Adisa felt a bit hurt at this kind of scorn. He had given much of his adult life to this cause, this pursuit of an evil villain. It was odd how bored and uninterested Elial was about the whole thing in comparison.

Elial seemed to read Adisa's emotions, for he spoke up, "You've got to change your view of this revolution as you believe it to be. This is not a horde of crusaders crossing that wall. This is the blind and deaf masses led by those that can think."

Adisa sighed as an otter walked by, "You can't really limit it down to just that can you?"

Elial shrugged, "I don't understand you. I don't have the time nor the interest in trying to remember what it was like to feel about something so much you'd spend your life to get it."

Adisa looked at Elial, "You've never had a belief in your life that encompassed what you stood for or what you loved?"

Elial grimaced, "We've had this conversation before."

Adisa shrugged, "We never finished it."

Elial nodded in acceptance, "You never could. I can't go over the people that I've met in various circumstances. It would be wasteful to name those who I've loved like brothers yet slew them for a bag of gold coins."

Adisa suddenly wished he hadn't brought up this side of Elial. It always disturbed him to see the old fox for what a cutthroat mercenary he was.

Skipper suddenly hurried up, "The assault's begun! Jander and the first attackers have scaled the walls!"

Adisa's heart pounded with righteous vigour as he and Elial headed over to where others waited.

Sure enough, the Abbey suddenly gained a feeble glow from the north, indicating that they had taken their objective. Thankfully there was no sound of combat, so that meant they had either taken the guards by surprise, or they were complacent to the presence of Jander leading the squirrels.

Skipper, Adisa, Elial and Thael hurried forward with a bodyguard of tough otters. Behind them came an assortment of otters and squirrels, running as quietly as they could. The main gates of Redwall Abbey seemed to loom upwards to Adisa; he wondered who would be there to open them to the attackers.

It was Skipper who came up to the door first. He pressed his ear to the door and listened carefully. Adisa felt his heart begin to quicken pace. If one thing went wrong, just one thing...

Slowly, one of the doors began to open without a creak. Adisa craned his neck to see who it was.

Mother Sara leaned out from behind the door and smiled at the sight of the creatures in front of her. Her face fell slightly, and she whispered "I never thought I'd live to see the day where I let an army of invaders into my beloved Abbey!"

Thael nodded, "Indeed. This is a dark age for Redwall. We shall now end it with justice."

The invaders slipped into Redwall, all of them moving to seal the entrances out of Redwall. Not a single battlecry had been called, not a single life had been taken. Adisa was relieved that all this was going so well.

Suddenly a twanging of bows were heard, and three otters went down with shafts in them. A squirrel was wounded and he screamed out across the grounds. Torches suddenly flared up around the Abbey's main building and from the windows came more shafts. Also were shouts from disoriented guards that could not tell what was going on.

Adisa grabbed Thael's paw, "We must seal off all exits! Quickly before Varrus escapes!"

Thael stared out in shock, "What is going on?"

"Varrus used the death of Arly to warp the minds of several of his former friends. He told them lies and gave them rewards for doing his bidding. He must have placed them in special power of Redwall in such a situation." Adisa answered grimly.

Thael shook his head, "The Father Abbott has much to answer for when he and I face!"

"" "" "" """ """ """

Varrus had awoken when the first cries rung out. He always kept his window open in warm weather, and now that simple act gave him advance warning.

The old otter hurried to the window with all the speed he was allowed. Craning forward as far as he could, he stared in horror at the dark multitude milling around the grounds, hidden due to the dark night.

Terror gripped his heart. Invaders! Varrus needed to rally the Abbey and prepare to fight back! He heard the sounds of arrows being loosed, and he knew that his special unit of guards were doing their duty, as were the usual sentries.

He knew he had to summon all those of fighting fitness to the armoury. He had spent much time secretly expanding the armoury of Redwall in order to keep it secure of attack. He had kept the operation quiet for a long time, so as not to attract unwanted attention to it, and anyway, the Redwallers had always been aware that they had some kind of amount of weapons.

He pulled on his robe and hurried out of his room to rally the Redwallers. He stumbled several times, for it had been a while since he had run this hard, but he carried on down to the lower levels.

When he had reached the second level, Varrus grabbed the first person he saw; it was Verso the mole. The mole looked worried, and carried a bow and quiver of arrows.

"What's happening?" Varrus called.

"Attack zurr! Thurr be many yurr creechers out on the grounds!" Verso yelled.

Seizing a torch from the wall, Varrus gave it to Verso, "Throw it out on the ground!"

Verso did so. The torch's light illuminated a group of about five creatures. One was a squirrel, three others were big otters.

Varrus stared in horror. What was this madness?

Verso seemed to have an equal thought of mind for he stared at Varrus in shock, "What's goin on zurr?"

The Abbott did not hear him. He only stared at the fifth creature that was illuminated. It was Adisa. Varrus knew then and there what was going on. Adisa had rallied an army, along with Judge Thael, to bring Varrus down for good.

The torch Verso had thrown extinguished itself as it ran out of fuel, but Varrus continued standing there and staring at that spot where the world as he knew it had come to an end.

Verso continued shouting questions at the old otter, and finally Varrus looked at him in a daze of helplessness.

"Vegetable oil." Varrus croaked.

The mole stared at him, "Wot abowt oil, zur?"

"Burn these invaders with it. Light it on fire and kill them all with it. Pour it down from the high windows and kill them." Varrus responded with as much of a shout as he could. He sounded shrill even in his own confused mind.

Verso stared in shock, "But they was otters and squirrels!"

Varrus slapped the mole in his panic, "That was Adisa! He's bewitched them to his cause!"

Verso's expression suddenly changed at the slap Varrus had given him. He paused, and stared at his Abbott in a new light, a light of indignation, "What are yoo tawkin' abowt? Wot's goin on?"

Varrus stared wildly at Verso. He had no time for this; pulling out the dagger from his robe, he stabbed forward into the mole's neck.

Blood began to pour onto the floor, and still Verso did not scream. Nor did he scream when Varrus pushed past him to hobble away into the shadows. He simply lay there, immobilized from the pain and emotions that told him Varrus had deluded him all along. The last sound he ever made was a whimper of horror, still disbelieving of what had happened to him.

"" "" "" "" "" "" "" ""

On the grounds, Adisa had rallied Thael, Elial, and a group of otters to attack the source of the defenders. They stormed towards the main building of the Abbey, attempting to break through the doors. However, a steady supply of arrows prevented them from getting too close without seriously risking death.

Thael stared at Adisa, "What now?"

Adisa frowned as he dodged another arrow while holding a shield over his head, "We need more troops to make a protective cover with their shields!"

Thael turned to an otter, "Get Skipper and Jander! Tell them to get here quickly!"

They were met a few minutes later by a sizeable force led by Elial, Skipper, Jander and Warbeak. Warbeak chirped out, "Hella's holding the walls secure! We need to stop Varrus' followers from attacking us!"

Adisa stared at the gates, "Let's batter the gateway down!"

Jander stepped forward, "Never mind that!" I'll take care of those archers!"

He leaped forward and began to climb up the building, using the bricks as leverages and footholds. Adisa scarcely believed what he was seeing. The squirrel was like lightning as he climbed up past ivy and vines to the windows which hid defenders.

Leaning into the first one, Jander suddenly leaped back, repulsed by a vicious attack. Yelling out of fear of falling from his position, and also out of anger that a Redwaller would attack him, Jander grabbed the offender and pulled him out of the window. The unfortunate creature fell to the ground with a sickening crunch.

Adisa shouted upwards, "You can't beat them all by yourself!"

Jander shouted back down, "I know that!"

He ducked into the window and out of sight. A long pause followed as the group down below held up shields to defend themselves from arrows.

The doors suddenly burst open after a time, with Jander standing there, grim as death, "Come on!"

Adisa and the group headed in. Immediately, Skipper detailed the three biggest otters to look after Warbeak, Elial and Thael. They were crucial to the case against Varrus for obvious reasons.

Adisa however, was intent on staying. The civet glared at the otter, "I want to see Varrus' face when he is arrested!"

Elial shouted at the civet, "If you want to bloody see Varrus' face when you see him sentenced upon your testimony you will stay back and let the warriors take Varrus! See some sense outside of your own desire for vengeance!"

Adisa was bitter about it, but knew that Elial was right. He stood aside and watched as Skipper and Jander led their forces up the stairs.

"" "" "" """ " "

Entering Cavern Hole, they saw the attackers had barricaded the entrance into the Great Hall. As soon as the attackers arrived, the guards began firing arrows again.

Jander and Skipper did not want blood to be spilt, so they stepped forward, yelling out their identities.

Suddenly the firing stopped. Three guards emerged from their barricade looking stunned, "What is going on?"

Skipper made a calming gesture with his paws, "What's going on is the end of Varrus. He's been hiding truths about his past so cruel that we need to see him brought down in court. We've brought Judge Thael with us! He's going to put Varrus on trial!"

The guards pointed down towards the cellars, "He went down to one of the tunnels! He said he was going to collapse the tunnel to make sure no invaders came in."

Skipper turned to Jander in shock, "He's getting out of here by the tunnels! Let's go!"

"" "" """ "" "" "" """ "

Varrus stood in the darkness and shadow, wiping his paws clean on his robe. His trap had been laid, for he knew now that anyone coming down here was an enemy.

The otter stared at Vinicio's body, stabbed several times by his knife. The sight made Varrus want to vomit. Before this night he had not killed anyone since Abbott Lyon.

My God, Varrus thought with horror, how long will I be punished for those deaths?

However, he could not stop now. He heard the footsteps and voices of Skipper and Jander approaching the entrance of the tunnel.

He heard Skipper's voice, "He's already gone down the tunnel! The entrance has been uncovered!"

Varrus shuddered, and knew that this had to be done quickly and thoroughly.

He suddenly heard Jander's voice, "I'll head down the tunnel with half the troops. You go up to the grounds and head for the exit to the tunnel. It's next to the big rock just away from the west wall!"

There was a flurry of footsteps, and Varrus sighed with horror. Skipper and Jander had been old friends of his, dear and beloved to him. How could they turn against him? The thought made him want to weep.

Fury coursed through him as he approached the head of the tunnel, where Jander and half the troops had just gone through. Soon they would be slipping on the vegetable oil he had lain on the ground of the tunnel entrance.

Taking the small candle he had concealed from behind him, he paused for a moment, wondering just how horrid of an act this was, then with a shudder, he lit the oil with the candle.

Immediately, the fire coursed down the tunnel, and Varrus heard the screams. The screams of animals being burned alive, suffering the worst pain imaginable. Varrus had heard those screams before; they sounded so much like civets it was unbearable.

Varrus turned away and went towards another tunnel entrance that he had left covered up. He pulled away the latch and knew that he just had to get out now and all would be well.

Conrad stood there, blocking the way into the tunnel. He carried a staff in his paw, and a golden crucifix of Redwall's Abbott was on his neck. He stared at Varrus with a cold fury and a proud glare.

Varrus stared in horror, and cried out when upon turning around, he saw that a mouse in armour had appeared. He carried the Sword of Martin, and when he lifted his helmet, Varrus saw that it was Martin the Warrior himself.

Varrus began to sob, and he turned back to Conrad, who spoke in a dark voice that Varrus had only heard him use when uttering quotes from the Bible. Conrad pointed at Varrus with a gesture that seemed to condemn the otter right there. Behind the three figures, the fire continued to burn and collapse the other tunnel.

Conrad spoke aloud in a thunder of a voice, ""This day will the LORD deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcasses of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel!"

Varrus felt his heart stop, and he knew that this was not Conrad before him, any more than Martin was behind him. He turned to look into the righteous face of the warrior mouse, and he remembered a time when he would have stabbed at the mouse with a ghostly dagger. That time was a long way in the past, and divine punishment had arrived on this day. The murders of Verso, Jander, Vinicio, and the others had become a dark stain upon him forever, and he was left to face those he had run from for so long.

When a group of otters came down to see what had happened to Jander, all they saw were the charred remains of one tunnel, another tunnel opened up and empty, with an old otter lying down beside it, sobbing and crying. For it was all he could do now.


	15. Chapter 15

**14**

Ætharr wondered how Lanvor was doing in the Loptrio lands. He hoped that Ben was still hidden and that the plan would work. If all went perfectly, then Jinn would be able to send agents in to assist Ben and Lanvor while they assassinated the heads of the Loptrio leaders. Then Ætharr would march in with his army and conquer it. If all went as bad as could be, Ben and Lanvor would be killed and their heads sent back to Calador in mockery.

But meanwhile he had another problem, and this was very serious.

He had just been informed of an attack upon his lands. A troop of soldiers had invaded Calador lands in the east, while at the same time, Loptrio forces were making raids on the western lands.

Ætharr now begun to assemble forces to challenge the eastern raiders, while relying on Judos to limit the western raids to as little damage as possible. The real danger lay in the east, where the death of a theign had shaken up the defences and morale of the troops.

So into battle to join the eastern fyrds would march a hundred fifty troops under Ædall, Horal, and Ætharr himself. The three of them would take out the raiders in one fell swoop and prevent their expansion.

As soon as they got there, they were joined by the theign Burg, and another two hundred troops. This force would face off against the five hundred raiders that had invaded Calador lands.

"" "" " "" " "" " " "" "" "" "" ""

Meanwhile, Judos was in charge of the defense against the raids. He commanded his forces on the border, all of them stationed there. He had led them in battle seven times already in the last ten days. The Loptrio tribe was intensifying their raids and it was taking a toll on the forces of Judos. He had lost half his troops to either the hospitals or the grave.

Luckily he had Ptolemy's help, and the weasel was a powerful ally. He was a military strategist, and had made a reputation as a strong fighter on the battlefield.

On the eleventh day since Judos had taken command of the raids, he was in military council with Ptolemy, and a newly arrived Jinn. This was a very surprising visit, as Jinn had become notoriously reclusive since the death of Keld. Jinn seemed to speak only to the Ealdor or his associates, and the appearance of the weasel did nothing to help wear out the surprise. He had become almost gaunt in appearance, but with a savage look in his eyes that seemed to suggest that without him and his agents, there would be much worse trouble for Calador than anyone could think.

Judos greatly disliked Jinn. Even in the beginning of their relationship, in the wars against Oorlog, they had been wary of each other. Judos recognized that Jinn was the biggest example of what a Redwaller's idea of a weasel was, and it disturbed him accordingly.

Jinn now spoke to the council, which included the two theigns, their lieutenants, and a scribe that witnessed the meeting on behalf of Æthar.

"The time for defense against these raids is over. It is time for us to attack them in return, to bring the brunt of the fighting onto their land."

Ptolemy looked at Judos, and then back to Jinn, "How do you propose this is done without leaving our lands unguarded?"

"You will take a third of your troops. Pick the best, the leanest, strongest. Those capable of raiding. I want them to strike terror in the hearts of the Loptrio civilians."

"Civilians?" Judos asked.

Jinn turned his scorn upon the otter, "Forgive me, but my memory wanders. You have never participated in a raid have you, Ealdor?"

Judos frowned, "No I have not. I fight in proper battle."

It was a stupid thing to say, but the otter knew that to have stayed silent would have been worse.

Jinn smiled, "As of today, more than thirty civilians have been killed by Loptrio fighters in these raids. Half of them were children."

Judos, "If I'm supposed to think of that when I stain my soul with a child's blood then you have the wrong impression."

Ptolemy suddenly intervened, "It is strategically unwise to attack civilians, Jinn. Wouldn't it be better to attack more of their attack force?"

Jinn stared at Ptolemy for a moment, and in that moment, Jinn seemed to want to rant at Ptolemy for intervening in his investigation, but he made his voice calmer, "We want their troops to be lured into a trap that we set. When Ben and Lanvor return from their successful mission, Ætharr will return and lead us into battle. If we do not retaliate, we risk giving away the plan. The Loptrio will guess that we are reserving our strength until something happens. We need to attack extensively so as to distract them."

Judos did not want to agree. He knew that Jinn was right, but he was damned if he would admit this to Jinn. Beside him, Ptolemy nodded, "I agree." He did not sound resigned, but nor did he sound enthusiastic.

Judos looked at Ptolemy, wondering what the clever weasel was thinking. Was he agreeing with Jinn simply to avoid an argument? Or was he agreeing for another reason? He didn't seem that interested in the raids, so maybe there was something else in mind. Was he going to pretend to go along with it so that he could do something else?

Judos hoped that he was guessing right, so he nodded grudgingly, "Very well Jinn. We'll organize an expedition."

Jinn gave them a hard look before nodding with that kind of finality Ætharr always used at meetings, "Good. I'll send the word to Ætharr."

"" "" " "" " "

"So what was all that about?" Judos asked Ptolemy. The two of them were seated in a temporary hall on a hilltop overlooking the border between Loptrio and Calador.

Ptolemy smiled, "Jinn was playing with you."

Judos frowned, "What?"

The weasel nodded, "He knew you would never kill children, even if Ætharr himself commanded you to. He wants you to return to the battlefield properly so he figured that if he proposed to attack the villages, then you would pretend to agree, and then lead the troops in an attack against their army."

Judos shrugged, "Well of course! It's more logical. If Jinn's so worried about us seeming to wait for a signal, wouldn't it be better to attack, withdraw, and give the illusion that _that_ had been our big attack? And if Jinn wants me to fight again, why not just ask me?"

Ptolemy smiled, "Would you have agreed to it if Jinn had told you to do so?"

Judos paused, and nodded reluctantly, "So what's motivating me now?"

Ptolemy poked himself in the ribs, "You could join me and my troops to ensure I don't get myself killed."

Judos nodded. Even if he didn't want to fight in battle, he knew that it was the only way to prevent more violence between the tribes. To defeat the Loptrio would be to defeat all opposition to Calador. Plus, he did indeed want to help Ptolemy out in this; he counted the weasel as a friend, "Let's organize an attack force for tomorrow then."


	16. Chapter 16

**15**

Ptolemy and Judos led an attack force of a hundred prime Calador soldiers into the Loptrio lands. The sun had just begun to rise as they marched into Loptrio, and Judos could see the red sun rising, always a sign that Ætharr had always regarded with caution.

Songs were made of that raid, of how Ptolemy and Judos led not a hundred, but three hundred Calador troops into the enemy lands and won fifty great victories against the Loptrio. Judos and Ptolemy would later hear such stories and laugh at how exaggerated the claims had become.

What actually happened during that raid, had in fact very little consequence in contrast to the events that occurred afterward. The only significant thing Judos and Ptolemy did was create, unwittingly, the great diversion that Ben and Lanvor had been looking for in order to perform the act that would change the outcome of the war for good.

"" "" " "" """ ""

Judos and Ptolemy spent a day in Loptrio lands, staying overnight to ensure that they drew attention to themselves. Apart from a minor night skirmish, there was little incidence that caused them a lack of sleep. The next day, they spent the morning leaving the Loptrio lands to return back to where they started.

Unfortunately, the terrain they had headed into was rough, rocky highlands mixed up with lush lower grounds. They had to head in a certain direction to keep on the path back towards their original camp, but it lay thick in the middle of this hard land.

Judos and Ptolemy began a quick march through the terrain, for they were down to seventy-five troops after casualties in battle, and Loptrio war bands were hot on their trail.

The Calador band began heading down into the lowland. Based on the knowledge of the land that they'd obtained through Jinn's spies, there were four great hills to head over before they could get back into the forests that spilled across acres of Loptrio and Calador lands. They had crossed one hill already, and they had to move quick to get over the other three and escape.

Judos scaled the other rocky slope of the hill quickly, sweat pouring down his face due to the hard march and the hot sun. It had been many seasons since the wars against Oorlog, and he had not marched this hard in a long time. For the first time, Judos truly felt his adult age as he ran upwards, taking big steps while bent almost double from hurrying.

Ptolemy too was not as young as he had once been, but he had kept himself fit for such days as this. The Calador motivation for fitness was no longer a thought, but an instinct, especially since Ætharr had become Ealdor. Ætharr valued utmost preparation for inevitable war, and other Calador values.

Suddenly a cry rang out from one of the troops. Turning around, Judos saw a multitude of creatures heading down the top of the hill they'd just left behind. A group of them were not moving, but were preparing bows. The Loptrio had caught up.

Ptolemy cursed, and yelled down at the troops, "Come on! We can't stop now! We must stay out of range of their bows!"

Judos knew that they would have to fight when they got to the top of this hill. The shield wall would be formed, and they would have the high ground, but they would be heavily outnumbered it seemed from the number of Loptrio chasing them.

But now the archers had descended the hill and were nearing range with the Calador soldiers. A few arrows began to fly towards the group, like bees forming the vanguard of a swarm coming up. Judos cursed as he ran.

Suddenly a cry rang out at the back of the group. Judos turned to look back. A soldier had fallen, an arrow in his thigh. He tried to get up again and follow, but he was unable to do so.

Judos looked to Ptolemy, but the weasel had already seen him. The two theigns shared a quick look of confirmation before heading back down the slope. As they ran past their troops, they urged them to hurry onwards and form a shield wall on top of the hill.

While most did so, a group of them turned and followed their lords down the hill to where the wounded soldier was. They saw the advancing Loptrio, but ran back down anyway.

By now the arrows were really flying, and their descent was slowed down by the fact that they held their shields up in defense.

They reached the wounded soldier, and hurried him up the hill; Ptolemy and half the soldiers provided shields against arrows.

Finally, they reached the top of the hill, where the rest of the troop had formed up. They stood ready, grim as stone as they stood prepared to fight to the death. Judos felt a sudden shiver go down his back; he could not get used to the hardness of a Calador warrior, no matter how long he lived in Calador. After laying the wounded soldier behind the Calador line, Judos and the rescue team joined their comrades in the shield wall.

Judos suddenly wished he had the sword of Martin back. He missed it; it had been his signature weapon, as if the blade had been made for his paw. He had had a sword crafted for him, but it did not feel like the sword of Martin had.

Ptolemy gave a yell, "First rank! Kneel! All pikes to the second rank!"

Judos saw the wisdom in that. With their shields firmly touching the ground, this prevented any attackers from striking at the Calador troops' vulnerable feet. The second rank was then free to strike with longer ranged weapons against the Loptrio.

He suddenly felt spurred to speak, and he gave a great yell of confidence that he didn't feel, "It's a good day to die!"

The Calador troops roared in approval of the call, just as the Loptrio struck the line.

Judos, kneeling on the ground at the end of the line, knew that he was still vulnerable. This thought helped him swing his sword with all his strength. The first Loptrio attacker daring enough to attack him fell back headless.

Two other Loptrio attackers came forward, each one swing an axe. Judos knew how deadly axes were to shield walls, especially after seeing what Ætharr or Ædall could do. He knew that he had to make the first move and strike them without giving them time to react.

Standing up, he bulled forward with a yell, banging one of the enemy soldiers in the face with his shield while running the other through with his sword.

Judos whipped around to take his place again, but then he stopped.

And he stared in shock. Beyond the war band, beyond hilltop. Judos stared at the slope downward on the other side.

A massive army was coming. Led by a three banners, and three leaders.

Blackaxe of the Jeri, Cocoran of the Falcarragh, and Ætharr of Calador.

Ætharr hurried up at the sight of Judos, "Hello there Judos! We always seem to battle on barren land you and I!"

Ignoring the cheerfulness in the weasel's voice, Judos spoke in a harsh whisper of shock, "How is this possible?"

The Ealdor swung one of his axes above his head, "This is the grand masterstroke, Judos. The Loptrio have fallen. Ben and Lanvor have done their work."

Judos stared at his friend, "What do you mean?"

Then he noticed another creature coming up towards them. It was Ben. The raccoon's eyes gleamed with triumph, and he wielded his shillelagh, "Let's go finish the job!"

With a triumphant roar, the newly arrived forces hurled themselves at the surprised Loptrio, knowing that they had stepped onto the road to victory. And all of it because of a brilliant scheme composed by Ætharr and his allies in order to triumph over the enemy.

"""""" "" " " "" " "

It was later regarded as the greatest military campaign of any vermin leader before Ætharr.

Ben and Lanvor had been sent by Ætharr to kill the leaders of the Loptrio, particularly Cecilio, the strongest of them, and Tiran, cousin of the deceased warlord Oorlog. Ben, being unknown to all the tribes, would come with his services to aid the Loptrio, and Lanvor had gone underground, hiding out and waiting for Ben's messages and information.

Ben had brought with him, as Judos had seen, the head of Vogel as proof of his loyalty. Ætharr had been quick to silence any truth to the matter, and so this head presented by Ben came as a great surprise to the Loptrio tribe. They readily welcomed the raccoon into their ranks. Ben and Lanvor then worked quickly to find the weak spots of Tiran and Cecilio. All they needed was a distraction with which to perform their tasks.

Many seasons later, folk would question whether Jinn had heard from Lanvor or not. Had Jinn provoked Ptolemy and Judos to raid the Loptrio in order for the assassinations to begin? Or had it all been chance and fortune turning in the favour of Calador? Jinn had never kept anything written down for anyone's eyes but his own, and his secrets did not outlive him. It was impossible to say, but Judos was ever certain of Jinn's tricks.

Whether planned or accidental, the raid gave Ben and Lanvor the perfect opportunity. They heard of it early in the morning, thanks to the beacons lit at the border in case of raids, and then proceeded with their attacks.

Cecilio, Tiran, and another leader had immediately led their forces towards the border, and by noon, they were not a day away from the border. Cecilio and the other two had sent half their forces away to crush the raiders while they prepared a raid of their own against Calador.

It was at that point that Ben and Lanvor had struck. Lanvor had started a fire to distract everyone, while Ben had slain the three leaders. The pair of them fled as fast as they could towards the border, following the Loptrio forces meant to kill the Calador raiders. And it had led them to the hills, where they met up with Ætharr, who had led a united force of Jeri, Calador, and Falcarragh. All of them had been planning this in the utmost secrecy, from the supposed raid on Calador's eastern lands, to the rapid marches, to the campaign to take the Loptrio down.

There was no doubt about it, that the moment Ætharr and his troops entered the Loptrio, so soon after getting the signal from Jinn that Cecilio and Tiran were dead, that the Loptrio tribe was doomed. Calador had won a great victory.


	17. Chapter 17

16

With the deaths of Cecilio and Tiran, the forces of the Loptrio were demoralized. The Allies had little trouble in subduing them in battle. However, when the battle was over, and the prisoners were taken, Ætharr had ordered a massacre of the prisoners in order to keep their invasion a secret.

Judos had tried to protest when it had begun. Seeing the grim-faced Calador soldiers beginning to execute the prisoners, watching the blood flow, the otter realized that this was no simple war to defeat a threatening power. This was a bloody conquest that Ætharr was conducting.

Immediately, he headed towards his friend's tent, which had been placed on a small height overlooking the camp of his army and their allies.

When he arrived, he found that not only was Ætharr present, but also Blackaxe, Rojo, Cocoran, Ben, and Ptolemy. Lanvor stood in the shadows, watching the tent opening ceaselessly.

Ætharr smiled at Judos when he saw him, "Judos! Excellent. I was just about to send someone to bring you here."

"Were you?" Judos spoke warily, unsure where this was going.

"Yes. In a few short days, we shall strike the Loptrio's greatest stronghold. We've heard that the Alcax tribe is pulling back from the Jeri land and is preparing to defend their borders. They believe we will massacre them all."

"I'm not surprised they think that," Judos said sarcastically.

Ætharr did not notice, "Indeed. They think we shall come down upon them as we have the Loptrio. They've been shocked into silence. Now that Cecilio and Tiran are dead, there are no more warlords capable to match our military intellect. And with the Alcax holing up for an attack, we've robbed the Loptrio of their chief source of spear fodder. As long as we keep the Alcax in that position, we can finish off the last of the resistance in this damned tribe. I've already sent for reinforcements; Gyras and Craterus are on their way with the full strength of their theignships."

Gyras, Judos thought bitterly, the youngest and most savage of Ætharr's theigns. And Craterus, who was loyal and would follow Ætharr into the Dark Forest.

Judos looked at the others. None of them seemed worried. Ben even looked amused, though Judos doubted that this mercenary really cared about this conflict.

Judos stared at his friend, "Why are you doing this?"

Ætharr frowned in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Judos gestured dramatically towards the open tent, where the prisoners were being executed, "This is madness! This is what we fought against in Jeri! This is what we fought to stop!"

Blackaxe stepped forward, "The Loptrio have hired the Alcax to be merciless in their efforts against our frontier. Blood calls for blood."

Judos stared at the marten, "This is madness! Were we not above such things?"

Ptolemy sighed, "Judos, _you_ were above such things. We just found it inconvenient at the time. This has been going on for a long time."

Judos was aghast and infuriated. He had been hoping that Ptolemy might have sided with him. Now he was alone against these leaders, and he had put himself in a bad position.

Ætharr sighed, "Judos, the only thing that keeps the Alcax so fearful is our threat. When they hear that an entire army, and the top two leaders of the Loptrio are all missing, and they hear of our attacks, they will fear us and retreat behind their barricades and their fortresses. We will not attack them however. Their defenses would be too strong and they'd be motivated to fight back. By leaving them there in fear, we get the chance to destroy the Loptrio forever."

"And what will become of them? The farmers, their families, the ones who didn't fight?" Judos could not stop. He had to continue, or else compromise his conscience forever.

Ætharr too, did not stop, "They will scatter into the wind, as the Millar did. You did not object to their fate, as I recall."

Judos paused, still angry, but restrained his temper, "You're right. And I must say, the only reason that I didn't protest against the Millars' treatment was due to their savagery and your blood feud with them. When you scattered them across the land and took their old territory to give to Calador families and those who could use the land properly, I approved. This is different, Ætharr. The Loptrio are like us. They have established themselves here! We can't just uproot them now."

"When I think of how they would have done the same to us, I'm afraid to disappoint you by saying that I can. And I will," Ætharr stated simply.

Judos had given it up. He knew better than to push his friend too far.

But it seemed that Ætharr was going too far. The next few days were spent subduing the other leaders of the Loptrio. And with the deaths of so many of their best military, the Loptrio collapsed under Calador's banner.

Judos went along with it all, as Ætharr had known he would. He kept himself away from the spoils of victory, he concerned himself with protecting the soldiers he knew in the war by leading them properly. He forbade them to loot and pillage the civilians' homes, but he knew that this was fruitless in the grand scheme of things.

"It's interesting how you stay by him yet disagree with him so strongly," Ben remarked one evening as the army camped out in a fortress once controlled by the Loptrio. Now it was abandoned, waiting for new colonists to take it over. Ætharr had already organized the garrisons to hold these forts until more people arrived. Blackaxe and Cocoran were doing the same: they were getting parts of the land as allies assisting in this war.

Judos glanced angrily at Ben, who was tucking into a lizard steak with some potatoes pillaged from an abandoned farm, "You must enjoy this kind of life you lead."

Ben took a bite of potato, nodding in satisfaction, "I enjoy it out of necessity. I enjoy what can be enjoyed, and the rest comes as a price."

Judos shook his head, "Did you always want to be this way?"

Ben shook his head without saying anything, though that may have been due to his taking a bite of steak and washing it down with ale.

Judos sat back in his chair, looking at a group of Falcarragh soldiers singing a song together, "I don't understand how people choose this life. I've been living here for longer than I've lived anywhere else, and I still don't understand these tribes."

Ben smiled, "You were from Redwall, were you not? You've been raised differently, and as much as you wanted to break free from it as a child, the lessons stuck with you."

"Irony is cruel,' Judos remarked dryly, 'but you? Your values were never in conflict with what you do?"

Ben paused, as if considering it, and shrugged, "I had the chance to end my mercenary days. Well, that's not true, I've had many chances, but that one was certainly my last, best chance. I found a place, settled into it, and I could have kept going being a neutral observer. I could have lived a merchant's life. But it didn't work out, so I resumed being what I am and always have been. A wanderer."

Judos sighed, "And I suppose you'll continue to wander after this adventure?"

"Why shouldn't I? I'm only here because Ætharr pays well. What I can't understand is why you're here. Why you're still with the Calador weasels, yet you don't like what they do?"

Judos was silent for a moment. Finally, he thought of how to word it, "I suppose I stayed here so long because Ætharr gave me everything when I had nothing."

Ben's cynicism was gone now. He looked at Judos with a new seriousness in his eyes, "Sounds familiar. Continue."

Judos sighed, "Ætharr and I understood each other. There was a time when I considered him my brother. I still do, in a way. I am a guardian of his children, I am one of his most trusted theigns. I am the only otter in this tribe."

Ben nodded slowly, then sighed, "You know, it's amazing how many people I find that remind me of myself."

Judos grinned despite himself, "Wandering around would do that to you."

Ben suddenly broke into a sonorous singing voice, chanting the lyrics in a specific manner, as if he was hearing the instruments in his head,

_Not to touch the earth  
Not to see the sun  
Nothing left to do, but  
Run, run, run  
Let's run  
Let's run_

_House upon the hill  
Moon is lying still  
Shadows of the trees  
Witnessing the wild breeze  
C'mon baby run with me  
Let's run_

_Run with me  
Run with me  
Run with me  
Let's run _

Judos felt the words sink in, and he let the silence hang for a moment. It seemed indecent to break the spell.

Ben finally broke it, "That's only the first part of the song. A music group sung it once to me. I never forgot a single of their songs- they seemed to go beyond what I knew and put me somewhere else."

Judos nodded, "I can see that."

Suddenly, a messenger came running to where Judos and Ben were sitting, "Theign! The Ealdor demands your presence immediately!"

Without hesitating, Judos jumped up to hurry to the tower, where Ætharr had placed his headquarters.

When Judos got there, he could see the other high-ranking Calador were in the room. Ætharr dominated the room with his rage. He stared at Judos as the otter hurried in, "Judos! We've been betrayed!"

Judos stared in shock, "What?"

"Ibos has invaded us in the Millar's former lands! And Viggo has turned traitor and brought Loptrio troops in from the south!" Ætharr hadn't looked so out-of-control and worried since long before he had become Ealdor. Judos knew this was serious. Calador was being threatened.

Ibos. Judos had never liked the young leader-to-be. Ibos had always seemed so arrogant and eager to show off. He had been young and foolish, bereft of true warrior's skills and mind. However, he was skilled in diplomacy, and Judos knew that if Ibos was their enemy, they would have to move fast.

Ætharr grabbed Judos' shoulder, "You must go and subdue Viggo and the renegade Loptrio. Blackaxe has already left with his army to deal with Ibos. I will finish our business here and secure it. We must end this trouble quickly!"

Judos knew that even if he disliked this invasion of Loptrio, even if he thought Ætharr's methods to have become bloody, he forgot about them. His friend needed him to protect the people of Calador, and Judos would be there.

For the true traitors had finally been revealed, and their strike had come.


	18. Chapter 18

17

One cold, blustery day, just as Ætharr had begun his invasion of Loptrio, a messenger came to Salamandastron with an offer of peaceful discussion.

Korari, the former officers of the Long Patrol, and a number of other hares had protested. Only those loyal to Roaveen had kept quiet, and even they were skeptical.

For the messenger was a stoat. A stoat who called himself General Brownhide, faithful servant of King Ibos of the Vireo tribe.

Roaveen, such a famous hater of vermin, had allowed him entry, but only under an escort of his best soldiers. Roaveen, who had always been ready to rid the earth of more vermin, was prepared to hear what this stoat had to say.

It was unthinkable. Korari wondered when the last time had been when a stoat had willingly been allowed into the mountain, and he could not think of a recent example. He wondered what had caused his brother to bend his strict will against vermin to allow one entrance into Salamandastron.

Thankfully he was able to find out firsthand. He and the other high-ranking officers were brought in to hear what Brownhide had to say.

The stoat was well dignified in his embroidered general's cloak, and his fine armour. He was also well-groomed and spoke in a courteous manner. Of course, nothing changed the fact that this was a stoat, and no hare of Salamandastron would forgive him for that fact.

Roaveen, however, had something on his mind, for he wanted to hear this delegate out.

The large badger sat in the Badger Lord's throne in the great hall. The hares stood upon either ends of the hall, their complete attention focused on the stoat standing in the center of the mighty room. Korari stood beside his two friends and mentors, Colonel Seahawk and Lt. Colonel Jackers, both of whom had been constantly antagonized by Roaveen.

"First of all, let me make this clear, Brownhide. You have come to us in peace, and you will be treated as such in my mountain. However, one false move, and you shall suffer for it," Roaveen decreed as an opening statement.

Brownhide bowed respectfully, "No tricks, my lord Badger. I come only with a message, and an offer."

Korari narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He could still not see why Roaveen had allowed this stoat entry.

Brownhide spoke again, "My Lord, my king would like to warn you of the growing threat of a certain warlord and tyrant known as Ætharr of Calador."

Roaveen grunted, "What is this Ætharr of Calador like?"

"Ætharr is the lord of a vermin tribe known as the Calador. He has been making alliances with a number of tribes even as he massacres the others. He is a savage warrior. They say that he cannot be beaten in a fight. He famously carries two axes and uses them when in combat, though there was a time when he carried three."

Korari suddenly felt a chill go down his back. He remembered the prophecy that his brother had made so many seasons ago, back when the world was simple;

"_Brothers three, who's reckoning would come _

_Hath done worse than should have done_

_One brother gone to the wild forestry,_

_Another lives in gluttony_

_The third is at the crossroads, one foot on each road_

_The reckoning time long delayed will be_

_For a worse strike to waylay_

_Beware the three-axed killer_

_Beware your souls and discontent_

_Your feud will not go unpunished_

_For the time of violence and death will draw_

_You must reunite to end your flaw_

_For that alone will lessen the pain of war_

_And will determine which brother will end in the fore"_

This prophecy had not been forgotten by some of the Long Patrol officers, including Jackers and Seahawk. The two exchanged knowing glances with Korari.

"Korari, I believe the day is coming where this prophecy will be made complete before us," Seahawk whispered.

Korari nodded, unsure of what to do now. What did Brownhide want with the mountain? What did this have to do with Ætharr?

Roaveen had already spoken, and judging by his voice, Korari realized that Roaveen had forgotten the prophecy. It was strange that the Badger Lord would forget such things, but based on everything Roaveen had done so far in his reign, tradition meant very little anymore.

Brownhide answered Roaveen's question, "My Lord, I wish for assistance in defeating Ætharr before his power grows too strong. If we do not stop him now, we will become enveloped in his thirst for battle."

Roaveen paused, neither approving or disapproving. He asked another question, "What does this assistance require?"

Brownhide smiled, maybe because he hadn't expected this much progress in negotiations, "Any force that you deem worthy of war, my Lord. I leave it up to you to decide how important of an issue this is."

Roaveen frowned, "And what if we did help your tribe fight this warlord and subdue him? What would be gained from it?"

Brownhide bowed, "My lord, I came to you because it is common knowledge what Salamandastron stands for. It fights evil when it threatens."

"It has never sided with vermin before! Who's to say you won't rise up to do the same thing?" Korari challenged.

Roaveen slammed a fist down upon his armrest, "Silence!"

Korari stared at his brother in surprise and anger, but did not speak again. He didn't want to make a scene in front of this stoat.

The stoat gave an innocent look at Korari, "Noble badger, I do not believe in conquest. We maintain our own borders and do not wish ill will upon anyone, save those who threaten our peace."

Jackers grunted disbelievingly, but discreetly enough that only Seahawk could hear him.

Roaveen looked upon the stoat, "You took great risks coming here, is there no one else to turn to?"

Brownhide shrugged, "When you are threatened in war, it is always wise to have a great ally to rely upon. You are the mightiest force outside of the vermin clans, and one can only imagine what fear your name will spark in that land."

What happened then was so subtle that only Korari noticed.

Roaveen appeared flattered by the silky, diplomatic words, and allowed himself to be pleased at the notion of his reputation and power.

Korari knew then why Brownhide had been allowed in Salamandastron. Roaveen wanted to feel powerful and absolute. He wanted to see his hated enemies turned into sycophants and flatter him. This was what he wanted, and to preserve it, he would expand his reputation across the lands bordering Salamandastron.

Roaveen nodded, "Very well."

Those two words, spoken by any other creature, would have sparked a riot among the hares, but the sacred title of Badger Lord prevented such a response.

Korari knew it was inevitable, but it still shocked him.

Things at Salamandastron were bad, and it seemed to Korari that they were about to get much worse before it got better.

* * *

Roaveen sent his puppet, Major Krieg, with a hundred hares of the Mountain Regiment. These hares were handpicked for their impressionable nature, and what a Long Patrol officer would have deemed a lacking in proper judgment. The Mountain Regiment had never taken such an emphasis on morals and codes anyway. For Roaveen, it had been about the act of war itself.

And so, when Brownhide had invaded Calador, the Mountain Regiment was there, and it seemed that they made great progress in the first day, from what Korari heard, which was little. Most of the knowledge that the hares of Salamandastron got was given to them when Krieg and the survivors returned.

The fighting had been scattered, for although Calador's borders were excellently guarded, the garrisons bordering Vireo had been depleted for the campaign against the Loptrio. The remainder of the garrisons had mostly withdrew when they heard of the opposition, taking families and civilians into the heartland of Calador. However, many homes were burned and ravaged, and while Krieg's report glossed over such details, Korari was sure that innocent civilians had been murdered.

The part of Calador they had invaded had been colonised a while back, so it had been assumed they would take the capital in a week. However, there was much trouble from the seemingly weak part of Calador. The garrisons of the abandoned forts went on to form guerrilla bands that tormented the two forces attacking the land. Krieg had sent his hares mostly against these renegades, while Brownhide maintained the supplies in any way he could. Attempting to take the fortresses abandoned by the Calador fyrd, they made some headway by having bases to be able to return to.

Then came the trouble. Four days after the invasion, Brownhide had gotten word that a combined force of Hunan and Jeri warriors were attacking Ibos' land, led by their leaders, Kazahley and Blackaxe. Blackaxe in particular was feared for his strength and wisdom, and Ibos wanted his best troops ready to attack him. It seemed strange to such hares as Seahawk and Jackers why Ibos was willing to attack Calador at all if he knew that Blackaxe and Kazahley would attack back. The answer was obvious enough; Ibos was blind with power, and he had convinced himself that Salamandastron would have sent hundreds of soldiers, and Kazahley could have been bribed to silence. Both these plots failed, and now Ibos' battle strategy was to let his enemies break themselves on his walls.

That left Krieg and his hares alone in Calador, with orders to continue attacking until more Salamandastron hares arrived. However, Krieg had known that no hares were on their way, and so he had taken his forces back to Salamandastron. It had been an almost bloodless campaign; many had been wounded, some severely, but all the hares lived to see Salamandastron again.

It was, in short, a foolish campaign, concocted by an arrogant and ambitious ferret, and Roaveen knew that he had been humiliated in the eyes of his subjects. Angrily, Roaveen prepared to send more hares against Calador to save his allies from destruction. Within a week of Krieg's return, he set out once more with three hundred soldiers, all of them prepared to withstand a good campaign's worth of fighting.

What remained to be seen was what would happen now. Korari had a good idea of what would happen, as much as he could not bear to think of it, so all he was asking was when it would happen.


	19. Chapter 19

18

All the Abbey wanted to know what had happened to their Abbott. Varrus was being held in custody, and his emotional state was very questionable. However, at the insistence of both his supporters and his enemies, Varrus' trial commenced quickly. According to Judge Thael, the charges were perjury, conspiracy in the false accusation of Elfwin the squirrel, conspiracy in the murder of Alonzo Punto the hedgehog, and the murder of Verso the mole, Jander the squirrel, and several others.

When Judge Thael announced this to both sides of the issue, the most angry response of all came from Adisa.

"He must also be put on trial for the deaths of my people! He is a bigot and a fanatic who started a genocide!" Adisa protested.

Skipper had hastened to stop this anger, muttering into his ear, "Adisa, there is no way we can put him on trial for that! It's been too long since that happened. And besides, that can still be brought up in the trial, so keep it to yourself. We have the witnesses, we can do this!"

Adisa immediately subsided, and both sides began preparing their sides of the case. Representing Varrus was Brother Gores, who still believed in the Abbott despite the greatest of doubts in front of him. After all, if the Abbott of Redwall was fallible, what was left?

Standing against them was Brother Conrad, who during the preparation was possessed by the God-given assertion that he was doing the right thing. He planned his prosecution thoroughly, not letting anything go to chance. He had many witnesses, of course, and he did all in his power to find a few more with seemingly little facts that would add up in the evidence put forth against Varrus.

Varrus' defense too had many witnesses, and Adisa was worried that Varrus might try and give a different version of his encounters with the civets. It was the one thing that Adisa truly feared the defense would bring up. Nevertheless, the prosecution had some secrets up their sleeves which would help decide Varrus' fate.

In accordance with one of the witnesses, Elial and Warbeak had gone to seek them out as fast as they could before the trial was set to begin. This witness was to be the key to a great revelation that none would imagine was coming.

* * *

The trial was an atmosphere that bordered chaos, until Judge Thael entered and took control.

For the Redwallers, after seeing all this darkness and violence envelop their beloved home, seeing Judge Thael in all his reverence and authority was a great relief.

Next to that, old Abbott Varrus looked shabby. He looked in nobody's eyes, dressed simply in his usual robe, and he did not engage in any conversation. Brother Gores sat next to him, arranging his arguments.

On the other side of Cavern Hole, which had been cleared of most tables for this occasion, Adisa and Conrad shared a small table. Both of them were worried, for Elial and Warbeak were not back yet, even after a week. They were seeking the final witness in their argument, one which would cement the arguments made against the Abbott.

"What if Elial fails to arrive in time?" Adisa whispered to Conrad.

Conrad shrugged, "We can always try and get Varrus on the stand, but Brother Gores can always challenge that right. He can dispute that Varrus cannot testify against himself, unless he is called witness by Gores himself."

Adisa felt fear grip his heart, tightening in his chest, "You're saying that we might not be able to prove his guilt?"

Conrad's face, far unlike his performance during Elfwin's trial, was serious, "We could, but our chances go down drastically. We can only hope they make it."

They sat, and waited for Judge Thael to begin.

* * *

The defense began immediately.

Brother Gores called upon such members of the Abbey Council, those who could call up the greatest amount of respect in the jury, which was composed of both Abbey dwellers and people who made a living in the vast forests of Mossflower.

The first witness was Sister Val, Head of the Infirmary. She spoke passionately of how Varrus had made additions to the Infirmary and in his younger days had always been a volunteer in helping the sick. She had never seen anything but a good creature in the otter.

When it had been Conrad's turn to speak, he had known that she would not speak to him. She despised him, and would try and dispute his questions as far as her being under oath would allow.

"When Adisa arrived to the Abbey, did you notice any change in personality in Varrus?"

"Yes." Sister Val said coldly.

"Would you say that he was feeling guilty?" Conrad asked.

"Objection!" Brother Gores spoke up, "This is mere speculation!"

Conrad sighed, "Sister Val is the chief of the Infirmary, and is responsible for the physical and mental health of the Abbey dwellers. If there's one person who could give judgment on character in this Abbey, it is this lady sitting in front of me."

Judge Thael looked at Conrad, "It is still speculation, Brother Conrad. Objection sustained."

Conrad nodded, "Very well." He looked at Sister Val, "Did you notice any new hostility in Abbott Varrus?"

Sister Val nodded, "Yes."

"Did he show any hostility towards Arly Punto?"

Sister Val glared icily at Conrad, "Only on one occasion."

Conrad ignored the hostility in her voice, "Would you elaborate?"

Sister Val turned her gaze towards Adisa as she spoke, "He went to speak with Adisa alone. When he emerged, he was angry and impatient. Arly asked what the matter was, and the Abbott told him now was not the time, and he left."

Adisa felt the hatred in Val's gaze with some surprise. Did she really feel so loyal to Varrus that she'd discredit an outsider as a troublemaker? Would she disbelieve him and hate him for this?

So be it, he thought in a flash of rage. I shall come forth and tell them all the truth, and when the time comes, they will be wrong and they shall hate me for being right. And I shall smile in triumph.

Immediately after he thought this, he knew that Val did not deserve that. The civet felt sorry for his dark thoughts even as Conrad spoke again.

"Sister Val, what occurred before Arly's murder?"

Val frowned, and did not speak. Conrad wondered if he'd need to get Judge Thael to make her talk, but she spoke up eventually of her own accord.

"Abbott Varrus was busy with finding out the murder of Slade. He interrogated every possible suspect personally. Nothing was discovered, it seemed. Abbott Varrus never revealed that anything had been discovered. Arly was murdered two days later, and Elial the old fox disappeared. Elfwin was put on trial for Arly's murder, and she eventually confessed to the murder. She was... hanged." Val choked on the last word, still thinking of such a horrendous event that had blackened Redwall's history.

Conrad nodded exultantly, "Yes, yes, let's remain with the important issue." He looked at Sister Val, "Now we are to assume that Elial's disappearance was noted _after_ Varrus received his vision of Martin the Warrior?" He was referring to when Varrus cried out in horror at the sight of his empty dining seat. Varrus alone knew, sitting in Cavern Hole and listening to Conrad's questions, that he had seen Arly's ghost, mutilated by his killers and staring accusingly at the orchestrator of his murder.

Sister Val merely nodded, "Yes, he spoke out in alarm, said many things that did not make sense, and recovered himself immediately. He declared that Martin the Warrior had shown him who Slade's killer was. Just around that time, Adisa burst in declaring that Arly had been murdered."

Conrad nodded, "Indeed." He turned around, speaking to all in Cavern Hole, "Martin the Warrior is our guiding spirit, he gives us help in times of need. He speaks to many different people. He appears mainly in the guardians of his legacy, such as our former Redwall Champion, Raga. This spirit, however, can be used, by a clever and deceptive mind, to fool good creatures into thinking something else."

He turned back to Sister Val, "It has been widely assumed that Elfwin murdered Arly, yes?"

Sister Val nodded.

Conrad spoke again, "Why was this?"

Sister Val spoke up, "She was found with valuables belonging to Arly Punto, and knives that were bloodied."

Conrad spoke again, "You were the person who confirmed that it was blood on the blades, yes?"

"Yes."

"Sister Val, who was the last person who spoke to Elfwin before the murder of Arly?"

Sister Val paused, perhaps in surprise, but gave her response, "It was Abbott Varrus, I believe."

"Objection!" Brother Gores stood up again, "This is a speculative question that draws unfair conclusions! Sister Val is no more worthy to answer that question than anyone in this Abbey."

Judge Thael nodded, "Sustained."

Conrad nodded, "Very well." He turned to Sister Val, "Sister, due to your place on the Abbey Council, you would be a high priority when there is news to be given, yes?"

Sister Val nodded.

Conrad looked up at the ceiling almost casually, "Was there an absence of guards over Elfwin's door at any time?"

Sister Val nodded, "Yes. She was given parole after her accusation. She was allowed to move within the Abbey boundaries, with an escort within reasonable distance of her to protect her privacy."

Conrad pressed his question forward, allowing his body to move as if physically pushing the question towards her, "With that in mind, Sister Val, was there any notification of Elfwin disappearing over any amount of time prior to the murder of Slade?"

Sister Val thought about it- one could see it clearly in her face- before she answered simply, "No."

Conrad nodded, looked at Judge Thael, and said in an equally flat tone, "No further questions, Your Honour."

Judge Thael nodded. After all had taken their seats again, he spoke just before striking his gavel down, "Court shall be adjourned until tomorrow morning."

* * *

Conrad and Adisa looked in vain for Elial and Warbeak. They had not returned.

Down in the Cellars of Redwall, their friends gathered in secret, speaking of what had been presented that day.

"What are our chances against the defense?" Vinicio asked.

Skipper shrugged, "Gores will continue to give evidence for Varrus' innocence, and he'll turn the blame to others. He'll more than likely accuse Elial of murdering Arly."

"And he did, that's the problem," Mother Sara said bitterly. She could not forget or forgive the fact that Elial had been one of Arly's murderers.

Foremole rubbed the top of his head with a hefty digging claw, "Burr, an' wot will 'arpen to zurr fox when 'e cooms back?"

Hella sighed, "He'll likely be put on a separate trial for suspicion in murder. Unless..."

A silence suddenly enveloped them as they realized what they could do to turn the tide against Varrus.

"Elial needs to confess his guilt in murdering Arly. He can say that Varrus hired him to do it, and also to find those two rats to do the killing." Mother Sara said in a whisper, as if fearing that if she spoke the idea, it would not come true.

Hella looked at the badger, "But why would Elial do that? It will surely mean terrible punishment. "

Vinicio frowned, "We're talking about one of Arly Punto's murderers here. He's a fox whose killed countless people in his life. He came back here to help us by giving us the truth anyway. What use is it if given only to us? He ought to give the truth to those who need to hear it. He ought to know he'll have to do that."

"But without him we'd never have gotten this far!" Hella stated, "And we promised him that no harm or punishment would come to him if he helped us."

Mother Sara felt terribly conflicted. Could they do that to the old fox? Was punishing Varrus worth giving away their word of honour?

Vinicio looked at Sara, "We all knew Arly for many a long season. Adisa's a stranger, and even he loved Arly like any of us did. Elial found two rats to brutally murder Arly, paid for by Varrus. It would be hypocritical of us to spare Elial from his punishment."

Hella stood up, "Elial would never have killed Arly if Varrus hadn't blackmailed and imprisoned him. He was a good creature who refused to bow down to Varrus before, and it almost cost him his life, and that of his son. He slew the rats who would have gladly killed again, and he is helping us bring down Varrus."

"Easy for you to say, Hella," Vinicio suddenly snarled.

Hella flinched, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a murderer too,' Vinicio stated grimly, carried away by his own strict sense of right and wrong, 'You've killed a deranged creature savagely, and you won't go unpunished either."

Skipper stood up, glaring at Vinicio, "We can't throw these kinds of accusations around now. More than ever we need to stick together."

Vinicio did not break his gaze, "I've kept quiet about this long enough. What's the point of focusing our attention on Varrus, when others that are guilty of murder go free?"

"The murder of Slade is no longer an issue,' Skipper said. "There will come a time for that to be addressed, but that time is not now."

Mother Sara stepped forward, "The issue that we need to worry about now is what we'll do about Varrus. Can we bring ourselves to put Elial on the stand and ask him to sign his life away into the hands of justice?"

Nobody had an answer for her. All that was left was wait for Elial to return.


	20. Chapter 20

19

Elial and Warbeak had not returned by the next morning.

The group spoke to Conrad and Adisa the next day, before the trial was to recommence.

Adisa was stunned at this option. He could not possibly think of what to say. Demand Elial to give himself up? Adisa had gotten to know Elial in that time that he was here. He had promised Ben that Elial would not come to harm by mutual agreement. He had accomplished much with the old fox's help. Elial had also tried to murder him along with Arly.

Conrad too, had never thought of that opportunity, but when forced to confront it, he had little choice by his standards at Redwall.

He turned to Adisa and tried to speak with him, "Elial cannot escape justice any more than Varrus can."

Adisa wanted to agree, but something about it just made him feel repulsed by the idea, "We can't force Elial to do this. He was planning to live in Redwall, as a peaceful creature. He was going to put his past behind him..."

"Adisa,' Conrad said, in a voice that betrayed the heavy feeling that weighed him down, 'I have gotten to know you, an outsider to Redwall and everything I've loved. I've listened to you, I've heard things I'd never wish any other person to hear. I looked at Varrus through your eyes and the eyes of others and I saw what you wanted me to see. I believed you and agreed with you when few others would. I compromised my past to support you all this time; don't ask me to compromise my sense of right and wrong as well."

Adisa looked at Conrad imploringly, "Without Elial's help we wouldn't have been able to be in this situation."

"Then we forward that to Judge Thael. We make him take a deal. Lesser punishment for cooperation in apprehending Varrus," Conrad retorted.

Vinicio looked to Adisa, "It's what must be done, Adisa."

Adisa looked at them all- Skipper, Hella, Mother Sara,- but they had all been unable to deny that Elial deserved punishment of some kind.

The civet sighed, "So what will we do? Ask him to turn himself in? What if he does not?"

"Then we testify that he admitted it to us, and put him on the stand, forcing him to reveal the truth anyway," Vinicio said darkly.

Adisa was struck by the deception in such a strategy, how cruel of a betrayal it would seem to Elial. He looked at Vinicio, "Are you suggesting that you'll stand and testify to that?"

"I will too,' Mother Sara said, though with none of Vinicio's righteous enthusiasm.

Adisa knew then that he had no choice but to go along with his companions. They needed him as much as they needed Elial, and he needed their help as well.

The civet looked at Hella, "You realize what you will have to do?"

Hella nodded, "I know."

Conrad waved a paw in the air, as if dismissing the melodrama of the moment, "She'll cooperate and receive lighter punishment as a deal, just like Elial. As long as he collaborates willingly."

"So be it,' Adisa said heavily, 'but since you're so eager to see it done, Vinicio, you can be the one to tell him when he returns."

* * *

The confrontation had to wait, for Elial and Warbeak did not return before the trial recommenced.

Gores brought several Abbey dwellers forward and they all gave testament to nearly all of Varrus' locations on the day of Arly's murder. Also given were the locations Varrus had been during Elfwin's trial. Conrad urgently attempted to get them to admit that there was time where Varrus could have done anything. For while Warbeak and her secret information were both absent.

Adisa looked anxiously at Brother Conrad when the defense called their last witness up, "What do we do for now?"

Conrad shrugged, "Will need to see if there's a hole where Varrus could have done anything."

Adisa sighed, "We need Warbeak back here soon."

Conrad nodded, "But you know what will happen if Warbeak testifies."

Adisa knew that quite well, and it made him uneasy.

Eventually it was Conrad's turn to question the last witness. In this case it was Lonol, the grumpy Gatekeeper of Redwall. He had seemed neutral to the questioning, but had provided honest answers.

Conrad looked at him, "Now tell me, Lonol, you were by the gate all day when Arly was murdered? You let Adisa in when he returned to Redwall at what we can assume is after Arly was murdered."

Lonol nodded, "Aye, I let that there civet in."

Conrad spoke again, "Would you describe his demeanor please?"

Lonol frowned, "Well, er, he was acting crazy. Like he was being chased by a monster."

"Did you ask him what the matter was?"

"Aye, and he told me that Arly was murdered."

"And you let him in to tell the rest of the Abbey?"

"Aye."

Conrad nodded, "Now answer this, please. Did you see anybody else that in between Arly and Adisa's departure and Adisa's return?"

"None that I saw, sir."

"Indeed? No one at all?"

"No."

Conrad looked at the jury members before looking back at Lonol, "Are there any other exits out of Redwall?"

"Aye, of course."

"Do you watch those as well?"

"No, I leave those to the guards on the wall. I need to focus on the main entrance. That's the one everyone uses anyway."

Conrad had been looking at the audience again, but at Lonol's last sentence his head snapped back as if struck, "You mean, everyone coming in uses that gate?"

Lonol suddenly looked uncomfortable, "Well, er, mostly everyone."

"But you admit that people could have sneaked into the Abbey or out of it unnoticed?"

Lonol sighed, knowing this affected his performance as Gate Keeper, but to give the dormouse his due, he admitted the truth, "It's possible, if you can avoid the guards."

"An easy task, no doubt, for someone trained to kill." Conrad said, putting emphasis on his words. He was implying that Elfwin had not been a killer, but merely a wanderer.

Just then there was a creaking noise at the back of the room.

All turned to look, and immediately there was chatter of confusion and curiosity. Adisa glanced over his shoulder, wondering what was going on.

Elial stood by door, taking a seat at the back, ignoring the hubbub he had caused. The only way he communicated with anyone for the rest of the court was a single nod of triumph to Adisa's questioning glance. He and Warbeak had been successful.

* * *

The court was adjourned for the day, though Judge Thael tellingly reminded Conrad that his witnesses had to be presented the next day. Now that Elial and Warbeak were back, and with the final witness required, Conrad readily agreed.

However, the group knew that this was going to be bad. That evening, the group met up with Elial and Warbeak that evening. They had brought the prisoner, an lean ferret by the name of Grakk. Immediately they locked him in one of the cellar rooms, though he had come willingly enough it seemed.

Elial grinned, "He'll talk. Make no mistake about that."

It was then that Adisa and Conrad looked at Vinicio expectantly. Vinicio, who had been so eager to see Elial and Hella charged for their crimes, looked Elial squarely in the eye and spoke without a quiver in his voice.

"Elial, we want you to turn yourself in for your part in murdering Arly."

Elial's grin faltered, only for a brief moment, "How's that?"

Vinicio repeated himself patiently, "You helped those rats kill Arly. Warbeak's testimony will condemn you in the eyes of the jury whether you cooperate or not. Besides, not only would your confession help in our case, but if you hide from justice, why should we persecute Varrus?"

Elial looked everyone else in the eye, and indeed, if it were different circumstances, one would think it was casual. His eyes rested on Hella, but the female otter met his glance with a nod, "I too will confess and face punishment."

Elial looked at Skipper, "You know, between her crimes and your wandering around fighting wars you two make a great couple."

Skipper did not see the humour in it, "It's the right thing to do."

Elial snorted in derision at this, but after that he asked, "What kind of a deal am I looking towards if I cooperate?"

Adisa felt bad about this, but he answered, "We don't know. We haven't spoken to the Judge yet."

It was a kind enough gesture, and Adisa's admission was rewarded with a smile of thanks from Elial. The old fox turned to Vinicio, "You'd persecute me if I refuse to surrender?"

Vinicio nodded firmly.

Elial sighed bitterly, "It seems I have no choice." After a pause, a wry look came over him, "Funny how things turn out."

* * *

Judge Thael was quite surprised, to say the least.

"You mean to tell me that you've got _two _murderers involved in the case who are willing to make a deal with us?" Thael exclaimed.

Conrad, who was expecting trouble, was a tad hesitant when he answered, "Yes. They want to make deals for their cooperation and will contribute to the prosecution of this case."

Thael sighed, "This is very unorthodox, Brother Conrad."

Conrad nodded, "True, but everything about this case is unorthodox."

Brother Gores was enraged, "This is a disgusting example of corruption! Why are we hearing about this only now?"

"That is irrelevant. The fact that these individuals have come forward now cannot be prevented or predicted." Conrad retorted.

Gores looked at Conrad with accusing anger, "You are a traitor to your vows to this Abbey. You have dishonoured yourself, and dishonoured this Abbey's reputation!"

"I merely take the truth and present it to those who need to hear it, Brother Gores," Conrad said.

"Enough of this, brothers," Thael stated. "I see no wrong with this. Nor to your new witness Grakk."

Conrad nodded, "With your permission, I would like to keep Grakk in custody for his own safety."

Thael nodded, "Granted."

The meeting was over, and court would resume the next day as planned. Conrad would present his witnesses.

As the two of them left, Gores shot Conrad a look of anger, "This is a dark day for us. And you will only make it worse."

Conrad turned to look at Gores, and simply uttered a phrase he knew well, "_Do not mistreat an alien or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt."_.

Gores frowned balefully, "_And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand._" With that he hastened his pace, difficult as it was for a creature his age.

Conrad halted where he strode, and uttered a loud call at Gores' back, "_If a man schemes and kills another deliberately, take him away from my altar and put him to death!"_


	21. Chapter 21

20

The court began anew, with tension riding high for those involved. Any of those watching the proceedings had only to look at the huddled forms of the participants to know that this was a life-changing event for them.

Judge Thael struck his gavel down, indicating the court to continue from before.

Brother Conrad stood up, "I call Warbeak Sparrow to the stand."

The Abbey dwellers turned to watch the small bird awkwardly hop-skip past them to perch at the witness stand. Some began to whisper amongst themselves; a sparrow serving as a witness? None could imagine what the bird might have to offer in this case, and others even wondered how Conrad intended to question her.

After she was sworn in, Conrad stepped forward, "Warbeak, you live in Mossflower do you not?"

"Yes I do," said Warbeak, astonishing many of those in the crowd for her language skills.

Conrad continued after Thael had silenced the noise, "Were you near Redwall the day that Alonzo Punto was killed?"

Warbeak nodded, "Aye."

Conrad spoke again, "Did you see him depart from Redwall?"

Warbeak nodded, "Yes."

After Warbeak had spoken her answer, Conrad turned away from her to stare at Varrus, who met his stare as emotionless as Conrad's was accusing, "And did you see Abbott Varrus' location that day, prior to the murder of Alonzo Punto?"

"Yes."

"Where was he?"

"He was outside the Abbey only once. That was the only time I saw him. It was the company he kept that made me stop to observe. Two rats, shabbily dressed and armed with weapons."

Conrad turned, "Go on."

"He spoke to them, and they appeared respectful of him. They were not holding him hostage or threatening him. After while they went into the forest, while Varrus went back into the Abbey."

"Objection," Brother Gores stood up, "This proves nothing except that Varrus spoke to two rats outside Redwall."

Conrad looked at Judge Thael, "Your Honour, I am not yet finished with my questioning, I shall make it all more clear to the court."

Judge Thael looked down at Conrad beneath furrowed brows, "Continue, Conrad, but I will not tolerate rambling."

Conrad nodded, "Understood." He looked at Warbeak, "Did you see anyone else leave the Abbey around that time period?"

Warbeak nodded, "An old fox."

Startled whispers broke out amongst those in attendance. Everyone began looking for Elial, who had been present before. However, the old fox was no longer in attendance. What did this mean?

Varrus too was looking around in surprise, and an emotion that Conrad bet his life upon was fear.

Conrad motioned for Skipper, who was acting as a bailiff of sorts. The otter looked to Judge Thael, who nodded. Skipper turned and left the court.

Conrad looked to Warbeak, "Could you identify the fox if you saw him again?"

Brother Gores was furious, for it had only been the other day that Warbeak had been in Elial's presence! He stood up in anger, "Objection! This is a farce! A mockery of justice! Brother Conrad is toying with us by dangling his witnesses in our faces before properly announcing them!"

Judge Thael frowned, "This has already been discussed, Brother Gores, and you can either sit down and cease this matter or I shall remove you from the court."

Brother Gores sat back down, his paws trembling with anger. This outrage was beyond him. The old mouse felt helpless in this sea of hatred against Varrus, his Abbott.

He looked at the old otter. Varrus was sitting absolutely still, but Gores could tell that he was tense with fierce emotions beneath his seemingly calm exterior. Gores looked away, not wanting to stare at Varrus and make him uncomfortable, but had he looked harder, he could have seen that Varrus was restraining terror. The old otter was scared, and he could barley contain this fear.

For Skipper had returned with Elial, Hella, and Grakk in tow.

Conrad pointed out Elial, "Warbeak, is this Elial?"

Warbeak's head twitched from side to side in sparrow fashion, out of regret for condemning Elial, but she spoke up, "That's him."

Conrad nodded, "No further questions." He sat down.

Brother Gores got up, "Warbeak Sparrow, did you see Abbott Varrus kill Arly Punto?"

Warbeak ruffled her feathers in surprise at this question before shaking her head.

"Did you see Arly Punto's death at all?"

Warbeak shook her head, "No I didn't."

"Did you hear anything those rats said to Varrus?"

"No."

"So you have no idea if they are the ones who killed Arly?"

"Elial confessed it to me."

A great hubbub began at this statement, and many glances were thrown at Conrad and Adisa.

Gores frowned, "Elial confessed that he saw the rats kill Arly?"

"He confessed that he helped in the murder."

As with any deep revelation, a shocked silence greeted the news, followed by great cries of outrage from the Redwallers.

Gores was desperate to find a problem with this argument somehow, and continued questioning after the cries died down, "Did you ever see Elfwin the squirrel leaving Redwall?" Elfwin had been the loner, the female squirrel who had been condemned to hang for Arly's murder, mainly through Gores' prosecution. What none knew was that Varrus had had Elfwin tortured until she confessed to the crimes, leading to her hanging.

"No," said Warbeak.

Gores looked back at Varrus before looking at Thael, "No further questions". He slowly headed back to his seat in resentment. He had failed to see a flaw in the argument, and he felt a dread coming into him that Adisa may be right after all.

Conrad stood up again, "I call my next witness. A soldier by the name of Grakk. He has much knowledge of Varrus' past, and has been brought here to shed light on Varrus' past deeds."

Adisa sighed in anticipation.

* * *

Varrus stared in horror at the grizzled old vermin who took his place as a witness before Judge Thael and Brother Conrad.

"Grakk,' Conrad began, 'Who is sitting at that table?"

"Judos, son of Neleus Varrus."

Mother Sara stood up in shock, "No!" Varrus flinched at the sound, shaking with shock and grief. He almost looked like a victim discovered by his oppressors rather than a criminal who had finally been discovered. Others too got up and began to protest in horror, all of them thinking of a particular youngster who had borne the same name. Who had been, according to his dying mother, named after his father...

Judge Thael knocked his gavel several times before looking at Conrad, "Go on."

Conrad stared at Grakk, "Is it true that he is the father of Judos, former Dibbun of Redwall here?"

The old otter looked up in shock, "No...!" The crowds began to shout in horror as they recalled the age differences between Varrus and Judos. How young had the mother been? And who was that otter they had identified as Judos' father?

Grakk waited for Thael to silence the audience before he shook his head, "No."

Conrad nodded in realization, "I see." He stepped forward, pointing a finger into the air, as though reminding God himself to listen, "Is it not true that he had a son named Judos as well?"

"Aye."

"So Judos Varrus, as we shall call him for now, fathered a child at a young age?"

Grakk shrugged, "Likely. There was rumours of him 'aving a go at a young maid, but nobody knows but him sitting there." He gestured at the old otter.

Conrad nodded, "Indeed. But let's continue on. Do you recognize the name Alcyone?"

Grakk frowned, squinting into space, before nodding, "Aye I do. Another otter maid."

Conrad gestured towards Hella, "Is this Alcyone?"

Grakk frowned, "No, but I'd say that's her sister or summat, I know she had a sister named Hella."

Conrad nodded, "Did Alcyone know Judos Varrus or his son?"

"Aye she joined the church they were running. Judos Junior ended up seducing her and having a litter of pups with 'er."

Hella was weeping openly. Skipper attempted to soothe her pain even as Conrad asked another question.

"You are a close friend of Coldbane are you not?"

Grakk grimaced, "I wuz a friend of Coldbane, aye. He's dead now, been dead for a long time."

Conrad gave a sympathetic nod, "You were with Coldbane while he was growing up?"

Grakk nodded.

"So were Elial and Coldbane preparing to strike vengeance against Judos Varrus and his people for the massacre they had committed against the civets, and the ostracizing of Elial?"

Grakk nodded, "Elial 'eard about wot them religious fanatics had done to the civets, what with poisoning their water sources and driving them out. Outright attacking them in the end, killing those who didn't run away. Elial wuz right furious, an' Coldbane remembered how he and his daddy 'ad been kicked out for no good reason. So they began calling on some friends to make the Judos family suffer."

Conrad looked to the jury, "It was at this point that Varrus fled his home to become a monk at Redwall, even becoming Abbott for a long time.' He looked at Grakk, 'Is that not true?"

Grakk nodded, "It wuz about that time, yeah."

Brother Gores no longer called for objections; he was so shocked at what was being revealed that all he could do was listen.

Conrad spoke again, in a bitter tone, "What of Judos's son and Alcyone?"

Grakk frowned, "Well, from wot we saw, Judos Junior took control of the town and ran it like a dictator. He 'ired a group of creatures of all kind to act as 'is cronies. Nobody got out of that town, 'cuz Judos Junior knew that 'e and 'is followers would be toppled if anyone came out with the story."

"Apparently not, for according to Elial's statement on the matter, Coldbane and his friend, a ferret named Blackback, attempted to destroy the settlement in vengeance. When the vermin appeared, Varrus' son slew the mother of his children and all but one of his infants. He was captured by Coldbane and taken away to be enslaved. Many seasons later he escaped and came back to find his father and son. Do you swear that this is true?"

Grakk nodded, "I'll chop me 'and off if I'm lyin'. Elial's always been good to me, I'll give 'im this information."

Conrad looked at Judge Thael. "No further questions," he said, and turned to the others, "Judos Varrus is a criminal who has run away from the atrocities he's committed, and he has shown that he is willing to kill again to keep his secrets buried."

* * *

Judge Thael deemed that the trial would be adjourned for the day, and that tomorrow, Elial and Hella would have their statements and confessions presented. Varrus was taken away to be brought to his room, where he would be guarded until the trial the next day.

Adisa and Conrad hastened over to Elial as Skipper led him to the holding room, "We'll try to have you and Hella get off on lighter punishments. You're cooperating in this case, and they can't hold you for crimes you've committed elsewhere."

Elial shrugged, "I'm an old creature who's heard too much of the past for today. What about Hella? She planned Slade's murder, it'll look bad."

Skipper looked worriedly at Conrad, who shrugged, "We'll see. We can point out the trauma that Hella experienced in her early childhood, and also how upright of a citizen she was before. Plus we can show how Slade was responsible for her family's death."

Skipper exhaled shakily, "I'm worried, mateys. All this talk of murder an' death, and Varrus hasn't even been charged for the murder of Jander and the others!" A tear trickled down Skipper's cheek, "Jander was a great friend, an' most of those others were also good friends. They deserved better than to burn to death in a tunnel!"

Conrad nodded, "Varrus will suffer. Did you not see him throughout the trial? He's a broken creature, and he will suffer for what he has done."

Elial nodded as he and Skipper headed off.

Conrad turned to Adisa, "Tomorrow we'll have Elial and Hella confess their parts in the murders of Slade and Arly, and then we can show Varrus put the blame on Elfwin. We can also show his history and prove that he's a dangerous creature."

Adisa clasped Conrad by the shoulder, "Thank you Conrad. Thank you for everything."

Conrad shrugged, "I loved and respected him once. That persona he had all those seasons as Abbott... They were of a different creature. Maybe he was trying to redeem his sins by looking after those in the Abbey."

Adisa hadn't thought of that. But considering it there, he dismissed it, "He had many people killed for his beliefs, and sought refuge amongst those who did not know of what he'd done. The massacre was hidden away from those who were not there. He benefited from this exile into Redwall. Only now can his punishment begin."

* * *

They found him later that evening when a kitchen maid came in to provide him with supper. Her screams seemed to wake the entire Abbey into seeing what had happened.

Varrus had torn his habit into strips, and had used them to hang himself. He had tied the makeshift rope to his bed, the other end to his neck, and had jumped out of the window. No guards saw him that evening due to the dark stormy sky and the light rain that fell still, drenching the old otter's corpse as it hung.

The reactions of the Redwallers were as diverse as they were intense. Varrus, the old Abbott who had inspired love and kindness, revealed as a radical religious leader who'd blighted so many lives with his ideas and bigotry, had committed suicide within the Abbey grounds. It was unthinkable, this deed. It seemed to strike them all even more than the terrible tales of his past. This was something that would blight Redwall for a long time.

Many wept for various reasons, including Brother Gores and Mother Sara. Others were silent and subdued. A few brought up the courage to ensure that the Dibbuns stayed inside and wouldn't get the chance to realize what had happened in all this.

Out in the Abbey grounds, creatures stood and gazed horror up at the body. A crowd gathered there long before any thought had been put into taking the body away. None could bring themselves to step forward at first out of shock. So by the time the rope was pulled up, and the old body was lifted out of sight, a crowd had already gotten a good look at Varrus' last act.

Adisa had stood in the front row of the crowd, staring at the swaying body of his hated foe. Tears flowed down his face, tears of anger, but also of triumph. He had defeated Abbott Varrus into admitting his guilt by this unholy act. He had renounced his admission into heaven, confessing his guilt with this blow against himself. The civet saw this and knew it was over at last. He pointed up at the body and shouted in a great voice;

"This is your Abbott, people of Redwall! And he was the bane of my life and many others'. May he suffer for all eternity for what he has done to us all!"


	22. Chapter 22

21

Judos lay down amongst the tall blades of grass, trying to wrap himself up in a threadbare cloak against the cold wind.

He was leading a team of Calador warriors in a desperate effort to get to the traitor Viggo and the invading Loptrio in the south of Calador.

How could they not have imagined Viggo to have done it? Judos wondered. Viggo being the traitor made so much sense. Who else could have helped the assassins into Calador? Who else despised Ætharr's new ideas and his rule?

Judos knew that he had to hurry, so he had taken the best of his troops, along with Rojo, leader of Ætharr's bodyguard, and Ben the raccoon. Both were skilled warriors and were worth any ten Loptrio soldiers.

The fifty or so soldiers hurried across Calador land, knowing that every hour lost meant that more invaders would attack Calador, and with Viggo's aid, they may even have already struck the capital itself. Huddling under the cloak, Judos suddenly felt very worried for Rosheen and the others at Æthelly. They had to get to Viggo's lands before it was too late!

But Judos knew that they needed rest, him most of all. The others were light sleepers, used to the harsh training that marked a skilled warrior. Judos had learned many of those skills himself over time, but the high level of speed and stamina was not one of those lessons.

Judos wished Ætharr and Ptolemy was here as well, but they were busy establishing the settlement of the new Loptrio lands, driving out the remaining inhabitants and bringing in Calador families to take over the land. Ætharr had begun setting up taxes in Calador, and in an effort to encourage the growth of population, he decreed that any families with more than twelve children were were taxed for a fraction of the regular amount. Theigns too, were taxed, and while this was causing a great uproar in certain parts of the country, Ætharr was confidant that it would work.

Judos couldn't help but agree with his friend. It seemed like Calador was brimming with children of all ages, running wild amongst the villages, forests, meadows. Judos' education classes had quadrupled, for it seemed that with the Ealdor's support behind him and his library, other theigns were curious about the knowledge that Judos brought to their part of the world. The youngsters would sit enthralled at the various battles fought by the brave Redwallers, and couldn't seem to really believe that Redwall was a place of peace.

Ætharr's children were due back from their training soon. Judos wondered what that reunion would be like. He hoped that Ætharr would live to see his children again, which was unlikely in these uncertain times.

But, Judos feared, would his children want to see him again?

* * *

The war band was within a few hours of Viggo's capital, when they saw the smoke billowing upwards into the sky.

Judos was aghast, "What's going on?"

Rojo too was disturbed at the cloud of smoke, "Is he planning to raze Calador to the ground starting with his own home?"

"Maybe the civilians have revolted," said Ben, fingering his shillelagh.

Judos considered that and found it likely. The Calador fyrd was composed not just of professional soldiers but conscripted citizens of the countryside.

He picked up his sword, "Someone scout out the terrain. Quickly!"

Ben hurried forward in the direction of the smoke, while Judos and the rest waited behind.

Judos looked at Rojo, "How many Loptrio do you think there will be?"

Rojo's one eye narrowed, "I don't know. We didn't get any word on how many they were. But this must be a last-ditch effort to save their people. After we defeat these forces, the Loptrio will have no choice but to continue to fall back and retreat."

"What I want to know is if Viggo managed to get supporters with him on this matter. I don't know what's going to happen if it comes to Calador versus Calador." Judos remarked.

The pine marten grinned, "Well you and I will have no trouble either way."

Judos smiled at the jest, acknowledging the fact that Rojo and he were among the few inhabitants in Calador who weren't Calador weasels. Ætharr had broken that tradition not only by marrying a Falcarragh weasel, but also making Judos a theign and a mixture of creatures as his bodyguard.

All of a sudden, Ben came hurrying back, "It's a full out battle! It seems that Viggo led the Loptrio into the capital, but the civilians have fought back! I couldn't make out who was winning. Half the buildings are aflame and it's chaos."

Judos shuddered, "Let's go! Hurry!"

The war band headed out. until they came into sight of the capital.

It was as bad as Ben had claimed. Smoke seemed to explode from the houses that were engulfed in fire. Many of the buildings were still untouched by the flames, including the hall, but Judos reckoned that it would be a matter of time before the town was destroyed. In between the buildings creatures moved around. Some were fighting, others seemed to be fleeing, and it was utterly impossible to tell for sure what was going on.

"By the Gods and their thrones above this world!" Rojo whispered in a shocked voice.

Ben shook his head, "Let's go."

Judos drew his sword, "You all know your orders,' He called to those present, "We fight as a group unless told otherwise, we try and protect the civilians, and we take Viggo alive. We must find out if he's in leage with Ibos."

Rojo swung his mace and chain, "Forward, Caladors!"

The war band charged forward.

Judos dodged a dead Calador child, and seeing the body so casually murdered filled him with a sudden vengeful rage, "Kill them all! And save the other Caladors!"

The Loptrio forces were scattered throughout the streets, and the presence of the fifty or so Calador troops massed together caught them completely by surprise. Under Judos' direction a bloody path was carved by the war band entering the city.

Ben ducked away from an axe swinging towards his head. A Calador weasel behind him thrust his spear, taking out the offending creature. Rojo swung his weapon, injuring a burly fox. Judos parried a sword thrust aimed for his midriff and battered his opponent senseless with his shield.

The war band headed up through the town, attacking the Loptrio soldiers as they appeared. In the glowing red light of the fire and the contrast of the dark smoke, Judos felt as though he and his band were carving a path through Hell itself, and the screams of the civilians did nothing to calm his nerves. The Loptrio soldiers caught unawares by the vengeful blades of the war band, screamed their war cries and their death wails out with such vigour that Judos had heard on the battlefield. But this was different: this was a bloody massacre, for the Loptrio had confidently allowed themselves to scatter amid their own destruction. Now it did them little good against Judos.

Judos turned to Ben and Rojo, "We must get to the hall! Secure the hall and the city will be ours again!"

Both raccoon and marten nodded, and they began working their way towards the direction that they thought the hall was in. So far, none of the Calador warriors had been seriously injured, and in a strong block they headed onward through the streets.

Civilians came running up to them, screaming for help. Children clung to the soldiers, wailing for their parents. Armed adults rushed at their own side, sometimes needing to be bludgeoned into senselessness to cease their panicked attack. Judos shuddered as he led the way, not sure if he was leading them towards the hall or in an endless loop of blood, weapons, fire and smoke.

Eventually the hall loomed upwards out of the smoke, like a lone rock jutting up out of a stormy sea. Peering through the smoke, Judos could see that a large band of Loptrio warriors had rallied their, and seemed to be fighting a group of armed civilians and Calador soldiers guarding the entrance.

With a roar, the war band charged forward, knowing the caution had long been deemed useless. The civilians that they had gathered fled whimpering into the shadows, seeking a sanctuary in one of the houses around the hall that was not burning.

The fighters of both sides turned and stared at the newcomers joining the fight. Judos' sword took a Loptrio weasel's head clean off with a blow from his sword that almost whistled in the hellish air. Light reflected off the blades of the combatants and was hidden by the blood which stained the clean metal.

Of all the combatants, none was more terrifying than Ben. His naturally masked face and burly body were peculiar and confronting enough in the ordinary day, but at his fiercest in this inferno, the raccoon was alike to a monster from nightmares. Ben's shillelagh delivered such blows that if placed properly could not possibly allow for recovery, and the raccoon's high pitched snarl drove the fight from many a combatant's heart.

Rojo grabbed one of the weasels under his command, "We've got them down here, take half the troops and root out the rest of them in the city!" Turning around after giving this order, he picked up a rat bodily and threw him at one of the buildings on fire.

Judos attempted to stare over the last of the fight into the hall. There was no sign of Viggo, but Judos knew he was in there. Why else was the fight strongest here? Doubtless the Loptrio were guarding him from the uprising Caladors, and now they had been defeated.

The otter charged forward into the hall, followed by Ben and Rojo, leaving the others to rally the civilians and save the city from utter destruction. None of the three warriors gave any thought to an ambush in the hall; their blood was up and they wanted to find Viggo and avenge this betrayal upon him.

Judos called out in a booming voice, "Come out, Viggo! We know you are the traitor!" There was no answer from the looming shadows, flickering on the walls due to the fires burning up the rest of the buildings in what was the capital of Viggo's territory.

"Meet your death like a Calador!" Rojo roared out.

An answer was suddenly given; a high pitched cackle, wracked with old age about the edges. It went on for several minutes, chilling Judos' blind anger and battle rage. He looked around suspiciously, suddenly wondering if entering the hall without backup had been so wise.

"You! You _dare_ tell me what it is to be a Calador?" Viggo shrieked out, "You three, who define all that Ætharr has done to corrupt what was once a glorious vision!"

"He sees us," Ben whispered darkly, his voice giving off a very faint echo despite the outside sounds, "He must be close."

The three automatically stood back to back, looking around, knowing only who they stood next to.

"I alone truly remember what it was like under Ællear! He was a stolid and noble Ealdor who tragically died before he could teach his son the lessons of mistrusting outsiders!"

Judos called out again, "We have not betrayed Ætharr or Calador. You did that when you let those Loptrio into Calador behind our backs!"

Viggo suddenly emerged.

The theign, old and crippled, was nevertheless armed with a short sword and a long sceptre that he used as a walking stick. His wizened face stared darkly at the three before him, his gums showing behind curled lips.

"What is this? More lies that Ætharr has made you believe?"

Rojo bellowed as he walked forward, "Viggo, under the orders of the Ealdor, you are relieved of all duties as a theign and you will stand trial for your crimes!"

"Crimes! Crimes for hating an unworthy successor and his straggle of vermin?" Viggo mocked in a shrill voice. Judos wondered if Viggo was mad.

The otter stepped forward, "You are an old weasel who fails to see what you have done. So many are dead now."

"And who's fault is it really?" Viggo sneered, "Is it I who had orders sent out to the civilians to rally? I, who has never betrayed Calador in all my life? Is it the Loptrio warriors for picking _me_ of all theigns to attack? Or is it the one who has driven them out of existence just as he has done before?"

Judos suddenly paused at these statements. What was going on?

"Don't listen to him!" Rojo roared, "He's a liar!"

Viggo cackled again, "Oh but you are all_ fools_! I alone see what path is left for Calador under Ætharr's command! My death will be publicized as a traitor's end, just as Keld and Vogel were traitors, yes? And all that will be left for those foolish enough to love and follow him will be a dark path to an early grave! And then Calador will fall! Thanks to Ætharr!"

Judos shuddered in horror at what was going on. Viggo seemed truly demented in his overly embroidered cloak as he waved his arms to emphasize his feverish words. Ben stood impassively in place, with a look upon his face that revealed his curiosity at what Viggo was talking about.

Rojo stepped forward, anger in his entire body language, "You will be silent! You will resign yourself to your arrest! Surrender your weapon or..."

Viggo spat at the marten, "Or else what? You'll kill me? You vermin are all the same, poisoning our pure land."

Rojo swung his mace and chain back, "The lord of your pure land has deemed that _you_ are the vermin!"

"No!" Judos grabbed Rojo's arm, "He must be kept alive so we can find out if he and Ibos have conspired together."

Viggo suddenly looked contemptuous of Judos, but with a regal sense that defined why he had been a theign, "You think I would conspire with outsiders to kill innocent Calador weasels? You're as stupid as Ætharr is inept."

Judos felt anger, but kept his voice calm, "Ætharr has restored order and peace to Calador!"

"Peace!" Viggo chuckled, "Ætharr hates the meaning of the word! He has organized Calador even as he drives one tribe after another into exile, and what do you think will happen when he finds out that his lands were attacked by hares from Salamandastron?"

Judos was stunned, "How do you know that?"

"You think Jinn is the only one with spies? You're just like all the rest, otter. You'll follow your friend to your own graves! Ætharr lusts for war and he will soon consume the land I once knew in his own ruin!"

Judos frowned darkly, and turned to glance at Rojo over his back, "Let's just get him to Ætharr. We'll see who's lying and who's...."

"Judos!" Ben suddenly called out.

For Viggo had dropped his sceptre and had drawn his sword, "Long live the Calador of old!" Even as Judos reacted in surprise, Viggo lunged at the otter.

Rojo had already begun swinging his mace and chain by the time Viggo finished his battle cry. The heavily spiked ball slammed into Viggo with a sickening thud. Judos looked away before it hit, not wanting to see the damage that he knew Rojo's weapon was capable of.

He looked at Rojo, "He wouldn't have killed me, Rojo. I could have dodged it."

"I didn't want to risk it," Rojo said, "And besides, he's a traitor. Look at all this, Judos. Ætharr will be furious."

"Not as furious as he would have been if the Loptrio had been successful," Judos remarked, "So it seems that they're doomed. We've taken their land, and it seems they've lost it all."

"Now all that's left is Ibos and those hares Viggo mentioned. If he's telling the truth," Ben added, looking at Viggo's body.

Rojo followed Ben's gaze, "What do you think Ætharr would want from this?"

Judos sighed, "Just bury him. Bury him in his home soil in an unmarked grave. Ætharr will just be glad he's dead."

Rojo nodded, "So am I. But we've got a lot of work to do now, and very little time to take care of it."

Judos nodded, "We'll organize repairs for the first two days, leave the fifty Calador troops here, and go back to tell Ætharr of what happened. He'll send more aid."

He turned to Ben and Rojo, "But he'll also need us. We're at war with Ibos now."


	23. Chapter 23

22

Judos, Rojo, and Ben returned to Æthelly, only for Judos and Rojo to be summoned to the hall by Ætharr himself. The Ealdor had returned from his triumphant conquest of Loptrio, to tackle the new issues at hand. He had also summoned his most war-worthy theigns to be part of the council.

Thus, Ætharr met with the theigns Ptolemy, Judos, Gyras, Ulric, Craterus, Horal, his cousin Ædall, his adviser Jinn, and his bodyguard Rojo. The other theigns were urged to maintain their lands and keep an eye out for any signs for assistance by Ætharr.

Word of Viggo's death and his dealings with the Loptrio was met with much shock and revulsion by the other theigns. Ætharr made it clear that he would appoint another theign immediately, as well as send builders, soldiers, and medical supplies to the southern part of his realm.

But there was a grave problem. Vireo troops had attacked the Calador garrisons, aided by hares from Salamandastron. And there were reports from Jinn, according to Ætharr, that indicated that a larger force of hares were on their way.

Ætharr personally couldn't believe it. While he understood that the hares of Salamandastron would clearly see Calador as a threat, why would they work with other vermin to defeat him? What was going on? Had the world gone mad?

Of course, he did not bring such wonderment and surprise up in front of the others. He wanted only to speak of what they would do in retaliation.

It was Judos who brought the question up, "What will we do against Vireo?" However, Judos was clearly asking, as the others were wondering, whether they would be going to war against Salamandastron.

Ætharr knew what they expected of him. Well, except Judos. Judos, he knew, did not want death and war if it could be prevented, but would nevertheless remain the most trusted of his theigns.

He took the upfront question first, "We will invade Vireo, and pacify Brownhide's assaults upon our lands."

"Brownhide?" Ptolemy asked. He had clearly been thinking that Ibos, the king of the Vireo tribe, was behind his general's attacks.

"Jinn reports that Brownhide has launched a coup in Vireo. He planned to get the hares into the war, and while they were involved, he took a part of his reserve troops and seized the capital of the Vireo clan. Ibos is dead." Ætharr replied.

There was a shocked silence. Nobody had liked Ibos very much, for the ferret was weak, arrogant, and incompetent, but he had nevertheless been an ally. Now that Brownhide was in charge, there was no chance to avoid all out war with the Vireo clan.

"Are we certain that Ibos is truly dead?" Ulric asked. He was the oldest theign present, and had a great reputation for his deeds in war. However he had mellowed with age, as Jinn had told Ætharr the other day. The Ealdor had always liked Ulric, and did not like to think of him as past his prime, but looking at the aging weasel, it seemed obvious enough.

He answered Ulric's question, "According to our spies, Ibos has not been seen for weeks, and Brownhide sits on the throne of the kings. It can be assumed that he is either dead or imprisoned."

"Are we to mount a mission into Vireo?" Gyras asked. He was the youngest theign, and the most blood thirsty. Ever since his father had been cruelly tortured to death by the Millar troops, Gyras had developed a vengeful taste for war.

"No," said Ætharr firmly, "We shall take their colonies first. The former Millar lands I once promised to them will be forfeit to me and the Calador populace. Brownhide has destroyed our alliance, and so we shall drive them out of the former Hunan and Millar lands. Kazahley has already reconquered much of those lands once belonging to the Hunan, and Blackaxe and Cocoran are still loyal to us."

This was Calador's biggest advantage. Assistance from the Jeri, Hunan, and Falcarragh tribes proved to be a great advantage to Calador in time of war. It was how the Millar, Loptrio, and Alcax tribes had been defeated, and now the Vireo clan, formerly in that alliance, would now be destroyed.

Judos spoke up, "So after we retake the colonies? What then?"

Ætharr allowed himself a cold smile in anticipation of what he would say, "Then we shall strike the weakened Vireo at the heart of their lands, and mount Brownhide's head on a pike. And after that is done, we shall invade Salamandastron."

Those last four words were met with a shocked silence from all, even Gyras. The idea of invading Salamandastron had been the bane of many a daring warlord. Countless vermin had died on those shores, and Salamandastron still stood free, ready to match any challenge brought up to it's stone slopes.

Even for the Calador weasels, Salamandastron loomed like a great shadow upon a desire for war. Even these great warriors wondered if they were great enough to challenge Salamandastron's Badger Lords and the Long Patrol of fighting hares. The hares' invasion of Calador lands was another matter, for they seemed out of place, almost bemusing, in their so far unsuccessful strikes upon the borders of their land. To invade Salamandastron itself would change the scenario completely.

Judos spoke again after a few moments, "Is it wise to give them the advantage?" Ætharr could tell that the otter desperately wanted to defy the Ealdor outright, speak out and plead to reconsider, but Judos was too much of Ætharr's friend to speak in such a manner.

The Ealdor looked pointedly at his friend, "Explain yourself."

"They have done little damage as of now, though they are quite capable of it, and their hearts are clearly not into this kind of dealing with other vermin ," said Judos, "But if you strike against the mountain itself, then they will fight with the vigour that they are famous for and we may not..."

"Are you saying we cannot win?" Gyras asked accusingly.

Judos glanced at Gyras, "Are you volunteering to strike against the hares yourself?"

"Enough of this!" Ætharr decreed impatiently. He stared at Gyras and Judos, "The two of you will be silent."

Ptolemy spoke up, "Perhaps we must allow this more time. Meanwhile, we should continue with improving defences around our borders."

Ætharr glanced at Ptolemy, who was clearly giving him a way out of this problem. He was about to echo the opinion, but suddenly felt manipulated. He didn't like this, for it felt weak in the face of what had to be done. The Ealdor was a strong leader who upheld Calador's traditions and protected its people.

He looked at Ptolemy again, "No."

Judos frowned, but said nothing. The other theigns paused in anticipation.

Ætharr hardened his voice, "We will join Kazahley and Blackaxe in their assault against Vireo, and if the hares intervene again, we shall take the fight to Salamandastron with all the strength of the Calador fyrd."

""" """ "" "" " "" """ """ "" """ """ """" """ """ "" "" ""

Ætharr wearily headed for the hall in Æthelly, his home that he hadn't slept in for two and a half weeks.

He knew his sons were due to return from their training out in the wilderness. He secretly wondered how they would look at him when they returned. Would they hate him? Would they be happy to see him again? And what of Rosheen?

Rosheen.

She had slain a monstrous pike chasing Judos as Ætharr held the boat steady. They had fought together closer than lovers, and had been lovers in the flush of victory. Ætharr and Rosheen's passion had become a marriage, which had become a matter of political alliance almost by accident. They had four children together. He had been struck by her the moment he had seen her. Her name was a warmth in his heart when he was away. She never strayed too far from his thoughts, even though it seemed that he strayed from her presence. He was the Ealdor, he had little choice.

He entered the hall, looking anxiously for his wife. Would she be there for him? Did she resent him for his duties

As he looked about the hall, he couldn't see Rosheen anywhere. Almost hesitantly- he was hesitant in his own damn hall?, he later thought- he called out her name.

There was no response. Ætharr tried calling out his daughter's name, "Nuala!"

"She's asleep, Ætharr."

Ætharr almost jumped in surprise. That lovely voice always seemed to get him off guard and strike a chord in his soul. There she was, entering the room from the private quarters.

Rosheen.

She was so beautiful, he thought. He gazed upon her with a loving relief, after being away for so long.

He stepped forward, "Hello, darling."

He moved to embrace her, but he could suddenly tell that she looked troubled, unhappy.

Ætharr paused, "What's wrong?"

Rosheen spoke again in her lilting Falcarragh accent, "News has been coming in every day. They say the Vireo are allied with the Salamandastron hares against us."

"So it seems,' said Ætharr, relieved that their troubles were alike.

He put his paws upon her shoulders, "Little progress has been made by their forces. Calador is strong, and has powerful allies." Rosheen gave a half smile, knowing her brother, Cocoran, was one of those allies as leader of the Falcarragh.

Her smile faded, however, "Judos was here earlier."

Ætharr cocked his head in confusion. Judos had met Rosheen at around the same time as he himself had met her. They had gotten along together, so what was the problem with Judos visiting? He was about to ask what was going through his mind, when he suddenly realized what it could be. He sighed inwardly. Of course Judos would appeal to Rosheen for help when he could not confront Ætharr personally.

Rosheen gently brushed at a scar on Ætharr's neck with her paw, "You've been fortunate in war, and you've given Calador glory and order again. Before he died my father once told me that you would forever be a legend among the peoples here. Ætharr of Calador, he said, would leave a mark on the land, never to be forgotten."

Ætharr waited for her to finish, silently hoping it would not be what he thought it was.

Rosheen spoke again, "I have loved you for many seasons, Ætharr, and you have loved me. You have not loved any other, and you lead your country well, but your children are coming home after their training, and you must stay and be a father to them."

Ætharr sighed, "What did Judos tell you?"

"Nothing that I couldn't guess for myself,' said Rosheen, 'I know what the Ealdor is expected to do. I know what you plan. And I say that one can thirst for war too much that he grows drunk on it."

Ætharr felt nerves go down his spine as he prayed that he would not be angry with Rosheen, but he knew that if he backed down now, it would be shameful to his position.

"Rosheen, I have already decreed that it will be so. We must strike against those who strike us."

Rosheen did not say anything, but her paw left Ætharr's cheek. Somehow, that gesture hurt Ætharr worse than anything she could have said.

But she spoke soon after, "You have just spent weeks fighting in Loptrio, wiping them out and giving more land to Calador."

"Your brother benefits too. He gets more land for his people." Ætharr broke in swiftly.

"All the same,' Rosheen continued, 'Vireo is worse. Brownhide has fought alongside you all before. He will know how to conquer you. And he has the hares of Salamandastron. Do not stride out and meet them in battle."

"Would you rather they burn the villages? Kill our people?"

"Our defences have held them at bay. We have taken back all they took from us, and there are few casualties."

"Why are you doing this?" Ætharr asked.

"Because I miss you." Rosheen said, "I want you to be a husband and father to our family. Please."

There was real emotion in her voice, just as Ætharr had had emotion in his own voice. He felt a sudden longing for what she wanted, to retreat into his family, being with Rosheen, Nuala, and his three sons when they came home. But he was the Ealdor, he couldn't just do that.

"You know I must be a ruler." Ætharr said with a sigh.

"I'm not asking you to stop doing that,' Rosheen replied, 'I'm asking you to stop being the warlord and conqueror."

Ætharr frowned indignantly, "I'm doing this..."

"...You love war." Rosheen cut in, looking him right in the eye, "I know you, Ætharr."

Ætharr felt angered by that statement, "You haven't seemed to have a problem with it before. I find it odd that the daughter of Tiarnan would have that kind of a problem with her husband."

"My father was a savage fighter and a good leader of soldiers,' said Rosheen, her voice softer and less aggressive, 'but he didn't seek war without a just cause. He gave the Falcarragh moments of war for times of peace."

Ætharr was confused, "I have given Calador order. I have restored it from the chaos of my uncle's rule..."

"But you haven't given it peace!" Rosheen again broke in, "You know what they say about Calador in Falcarragh, Ætharr? Calador is a battlefield and a tomb. You know nothing but times of war. You have always been on the brink of it at some point or another. Your peace is a breathing space, where the crops are pulled in and the warriors come back to heal their wounds. You have never been at peace."

Ætharr paused, wondering what was coming up next.

Rosheen put a comforting paw on Ætharr's shoulder, "Give Calador peace. For once. And stay here in Æthelly."

Ætharr wondered if Rosheen was right. Could he give Calador peace? Was that so hard to imagine? Then he thought of his father, and the countless others in his ancestry and the ancestry of others who'd died in battle either in Calador, on the borders, or away in a foreign land. He thought of his returning sons, and little Nuala who was asleep not far away. He thought of Judos, and the great bounds he had made in the education. Could more be put into that?

Ætharr finally gave a sigh, as if letting out a bad vapour from his body, embraced the woman he loved, and said, "Very well."


	24. Chapter 24

23

Roaveen left Salamandastron with three hundred hares from the Mountain Regiment. He had carefully chosen those who suffered little qualms. The Long Patrol had always had the highest values considering war, and Roaveen had never shown the same interest in any of it. The act of war was not meant to be held together by rules. If the vermin couldn't follow any rules in war, it made little sense to try and impose those rules on the other side. Roaveen had set out to make his Regiment as capable as the vermin to withstand violence and hate, prepared to do what was necessary to win.

Roaveen looked to where Sophus and Ormond marched, their eyes going over the recruits as they went along. While the majority of the hares Roaveen had taken from his Regiment were without scruples, others-recruits such as Leaflock, or the officers such as Sophus and Ormond- would likely have many issues with what was being . Roaveen had seen them, had noticed their character, and realized that they would likely cause trouble in this kind of fighting. But, he reasoned, if they were left behind at Salamandastron, not only would Roaveen miss their influence and authority in controlling the main unit, but they'd also be exposed to Roaveen's enemies at Salamandastron. Doubtless those two old sods, Jackers and Seahawk, would try and appeal to the older values of Oakfur and the other Badger Lords before him. Better to have dissidence here, where Roaveen could control it, rather than have it waiting for him when he returned from the battles.

They travelled through to the southern lands from Salamandastron, where the vermin clans had long reigned. Their names mattered little to the hares, for the clans had long learned to fear the long pikes and songs of the Long Patrol. They fought mostly amongst themselves, and their direct neighbours.

But now it was all to change. Allegiances amongst the Calador, the Jeri, the Hunan, and the Falcarragh had led to the expulsion and surrender of the greater part of the other tribes. Vireo, once the foremost of Calador's new allies, had now broken the vows, damning its people into war. And they in turn had gone to Salamandastron for help. None could have foreseen such events occurring.

Roaveen thought little of such things, though. He cared nothing for the vermin clans of the past, but looked instead to a future where he had subdued these groups. Such weasels and ferrets and stoats and rats had no business taking such swathes of land. The Badger Lord wondered if he could perhaps take a personal control over the land. Perhaps it would serve as outposts for the Mountain Regiment? Salamandastron's power was legendary already, but Roaveen wanted to expand its influence. And with Salamandastron's influence growing, his own power would grow and recognized.

With these thoughts in his mind, he led three hundred hares into the Vireo lands.

To war.

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The Vireo lands were in turmoil. The Jeri and the Hunan tribes, once the bitterest of enemies, were now allied in their attack upon Brownhide's new regime. All across the land people spoke of Brownhide, Ibos' former general, now in command of a splintered Vireo.

Words had also been spoken of the hares of Salamandastron, but these were light, and the humour in the voices of those who spoke betrayed their opinions of how the hares had come and gone without making a single impact into the war's outcome. Calador had defended itself, and the surprise attack by Vireo had failed.

However, there were two great secrets that the Vireo had on their side, and the fact that these two aces had not been revealed might yet save them in the war. One was Roaveen's personal involvement, while the other was not to be shown to the world until the last hour, where the tide of war turned on the slenderest wind.

In the meantime, Roaveen came into the Vireo land with his hares. The vermin eyed them suspiciously, but did nothing for fear of the tall hares and their sharp weapons.

On the third day, Brownhide himself came to see the Badger Lord, along with a personal escort of two hundred Vireo troops.

"My Lord, it is an honour to see you again," the stoat said upon greeting Roaveen.

Roaveen did not return the polite greetings, "Things have changed since last we spoke. Including your position of power."

Brownhide faltered for the briefest moment, but smiled, "Indeed, Lord Badger, but our goals have not changed. The Calador and their allies are stronger than ever. The Loptrio tribe has been driven out, while the Alcax tribe has been cowed. The Ealdor's power strengthens, and he sends his allies to our borders."

"So we have heard," Roaveen replied. He patted the broadsword at his side, "We have come with more strength to end this destructive conflict."

Brownhide could not have been more of a sycophant. As he gazed upon the three hundred hares ordered up behind Roaveen, he mounted compliments upon praise.

Roaveen, secretly pleased, kept a stern face set, "We have heard over six hundred foebeasts are marching upon your eastern borders."

The stoat nodded, "They are a joint Hunan and Jeri force, led by Ervaring, the foremost general of King Blackaxe. Both were involved in Ætharr's rise to power."

Roaveen nodded, "I see. The plan is simple then; eliminate Ervaring and the allied forces. How many other armies are set to march?"

Brownhide smiled, "My Lord, if we can destroy this army, then Calador's allies will be greatly weakened. And if you bring more hares in the next few weeks, we can invade Calador itself."

Roaveen was not a complete fool in situations like this. He could see the not-so-subtle suggestions being thrown at him. And yet he did not ignore these suggestions. They benefited Salamandastron long before they benefited the Vireo clan.

What Brownhide was mistaken in was the fact that Roaveen did not like the Vireo any more than he liked the Calador. But a divided enemy falls faster, as Roaveen had been taught, and it would make sense to get the favour of one of the tribes. They could then be dealt with easily when the time came.

But at that meeting, Roaveen smiled and nodded, "Let us prepare for the battle."

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Brownhide had received advance warning of the allies' approach. Ervaring was marching into what he assumed was a divided land in the midst of Brownhide's takeover. None of the allies knew of Roaveen's arrival into the Vireo lands. It would prove to be a great advantage.

Roaveen's genius came out best in military tactics. He scouted out a suitable terrain in Ervaring's path, and arranged the forces himself. Brownhide, recognizing the Badger Lord's superior skill, sent him his best two hundred and fifty Vireo warriors. They were awed in the presence of a Badger Lord, and hastened to obey his commands. Indeed, Roaveen himself truly acted as if he was Lord of these lands rather than an ally of Brownhide.

The hares themselves were more divided in opinion.

Sophus and Ormond, good friends, disliked and distrusted the vermin, and avoided any contact with them if possible. Roaveen did not help matters by bringing them along to councils of war. At such gatherings, they rarely spoke, and kept up a stiff, military silence in the face of the sycophantic Vireo officers.

Even they had to agree upon their Lord's choice of battlefield. Where the forests ended, there was a valley cut in half by a raging river and scattered foliage amongst the low hills in the distance. It was perfect for an ambush upon the unsuspecting Jeri and Hunan.

Roaveen plodded around the battlefield, arranging his hares in ambush locations. The bait would be the Vireo army, seemingly unorganized and ill prepared for Ervaring's arrival.

Sophus and Ormond took their positions in the trench dug out for them and their platoon. They would be part of the crucial strike Roaveen planned, and they knew that regardless of their personal feelings, their performance and leadership would influence how many of the Regiment would live to see Salamandastron again.

Still, Sophus was ever outspoken about what was on his mind. He turned to his friend, "Ormond, what do you think 'Is Lordship's a'planning for us, wot?"

Ormond shrugged, "I dunno, but I bally don't like the looks o' them vermin types. The sooner we can fight them, the better."

Sophus raised an eyebrow, "Pardon?"

"Well, that's what Roaveen's planning, ain't it? We'll fight the bigger foes and bally well turn on these chaps when we've secured the area."

Sophus paused, thinking about it, and sighed, "Suddenly I wish I was in the Long Patrol."

Ormond looked at his friend in surprise, "Come again?"

Sophus looked upwards, a pained look on his face. As if saying such words burned his tongue, or thinking such thoughts gave him a headache.

"The Long Patrol stood for something. Something that, no offence to 'Is Nibs Roaveen, hasn't bally incorporated into the Regiment. Oakfur may have been a bitter old grouch near the end but 'e never tried to change the order in such a radical way. What's going to become of it, Ormond?"

Ormond sighed, "It ain't our job to think of that, Sofa. We're just taking care of our lads."

Sophus' mouth twitched in a half-smile at the use of his nickname, but that was all the response he gave.

For it was then that Ervaring was sighted, and the battle was about to begin.


	25. Chapter 25

24

It was the day Ætharr had been waiting for- and dreading- for a long time.

His three sons had completed their transition from boyhood, to the start of manhood in Calador. This was the method designed by Ealdors past to develop the fearsome strength, endurance, and discipline of an ideal army. The Calador fyrd depended on it.

Ætharr stood now outside his hall in Æthelly. His wife Rosheen stood next to him, along with a number of other attendants and members of his council. His beloved cousin Ædall was there, awaiting the return of his own son; Jinn was present, his appearance a bit negative due to his reclusive nature and dark look about him; Ptolemy was there, and Judos was there too. Judos was there not only out of respect for the Ealdor, but because he was a guardian of the children. Sworn to protect them and watch over them. Ætharr's fourth child, his daughter Nuala, was standing by with her mother.

Ætharr had spent the time of peace as Rosheen had advised. He had gotten to know his daughter for the first time since her birth. He realized- to his shame- that he had never thought so highly of her as he had of his sons. How that had changed when he had begun to spend time with her like a father. It was a deep and profound feeling to see such a beautiful little pup and know she was yours. That she would grow into a fine young maid and make him proud. To think that he had always been so absent from home that he had almost missed that feeling of fatherhood.

Five weeks had passed by since he had made his promise to Rosheen. He had kept it, as he always kept his word. He had been there for them, occasionally assuming the duties of an Ealdor, addressing issues of agriculture and education. He had put more focus on the libraries springing up around Calador, thanks to Judos. The otter had spent more time as a professor and teacher than a theign, as the two of them joked.

Ætharr had kept his word to Rosheen. He had given Calador peace. And it had prospered. The Loptrio lands, taken now after the former Loptrio tribe had been dispersed into a diaspora, had filled with colonists from Calador, and the population was increasing tenfold because of the new prosperity. In a few seasons time, the Calador tribe would have the largest army to march in these lands.

And while Ætharr had devoted his time to peace and prosperity, his restless mind had not strayed far from thoughts of war. Even now he looked to Vireo, hostile and isolated. He looked northwards, to Salamandastron, and southwards to the Kala tribe and maybe even Southsward. The Ealdor accepted that he could not resist thinking of such things. Such was his ambitious persona and his love for conquest.

Ætharr had become more social in those weeks. He had thrown feasts in his hall, inviting his friends and allies from other tribes. Blackaxe of the Jeri and Kazahley of the Hunan had come, as had Cocoran, brother to Rosheen and chief of the Falcarragh. Friends he had appointed as theigns had been in attendance. Ben the raccoon, hired soldier in Ætharr's army, had taken up a settlement on Judos' lands and was developing a conversational friendship with the otter theign.

The night before this day, he had had another feast, honouring the return of his sons. It was a more personal affair, and so Ætharr had invited his closest friends and allies. Ædall, Judos, Ptolemy, Horal, Gyras, Burg, Lanvor, and Craterus had been among those who honoured their Ealdor. Even Jinn had come at one point, though he did not stay long.

It was a marvellous feast, with much meat and ale present, as with any traditional Calador feast. The guests stayed long into the night, toasting the gods, their Ealdor, their ancestors, their sons, their history, anything that a drunk patriot would honour was mentioned.

Judos alone did not drink excessively. He had never been much for ale, and as he could see, neither was Ætharr. The Ealdor did not want to drink too heavily on the night before his sons' return. It was an important day that could not be ruined by the after effects of drink.

Like all sober guests, Judos was the last in attendance by the time the feast was over. The two old friends decided to finish the leftovers of the feast rather than let it go to waste.

Judos sunk his teeth into freshly cooked trout, speaking in between mouthfuls, "This is what we fought for, my friend." The otter was in an extraordinarily good mood these past weeks. The time of peace had been good to him, and seeing Calador's attention diverted from war had given him much to do. It was an altogether more pleasant side of Calador and Ætharr, so the otter reckoned.

Ætharr looked at him over a leg of grouse, "What's that you say?"

"Peace. The time of plenty."

The weasel smiled at those words, "You know, you've spent so much time teaching Calador about Redwall that you can't help but be drawn into their mind set again."

Judos laughed as he sipped at cold water, "You're mistaken, Ætharr. Redwall is wonderful as an ideal, but in reality no ideal is as it would seem."

The weasel rolled his eyes, "Say what you will, but I know what I see and hear."

Judos' face fell for a brief moment, "Speaking of that, what did Jinn have to say? I saw him talk to you briefly and then leave after a few toasts."

Ætharr shrugged, "He is discontented. Jinn has lived so long as a spy and intelligence agent that he cannot get his head around any time of peace. It frustrates him, and he has warned me that we have let our guard down too much."

"He would say that," Judos said scornfully.

"You never liked him. I can see why, but it's still a pity to hear two of my friends insult one another," Ætharr remarked.

Judos looked at the weasel, "Do you still consider him a friend?"

"Jinn is and always has been as much my friend as you or my cousin," Ætharr answered resolutely.

"He has lied to Calador. Maybe he would lie to you?" Judos ventured.

Ætharr frowned, but did not say anything at first. Likely because he was finishing a lizard steak that still sizzled from when it had been on the spit.

After he had eaten his fill, he looked Judos squarely in the eye, "Something's been bothering you."

Judos hesitated, but confessed the matter, "Viggo."

Ætharr scowled, "Why do you utter that name after so long?"

Judos looked thoughtful as he spoke, "I've been rolling it around in my head, and it doesn't make sense. Viggo's city was aflame. Invaders were killing Viggo's people. If Viggo had let them in, why were they so violent and destructive?"

Ætharr leered, "What are you suggesting? That rather than take an easy, direct route into Calador through the forest or one of the more isolated forts guarding the border, the invaders went all the way down south to attack Viggo of all people? That is a coincidence I find too hard to believe."

Judos sighed, "Maybe they were hired? The same people, perhaps, who hired those raiders to attack Æthelly?" He was referring to the attack on a feast honouring the birth of Ætharr's children. It had resulted in several dead, including Ferric, one of Ætharr's most trusted theigns.

Ætharr hadn't put any thought to that night ambush, but Judos' reminder filled him with the same dark thoughts that had plagued him back then.

Judos was persistent though, "Ætharr, those suspicious deeds tie in with what's been going on in Vireo. Ibos being all reluctant to do his parts in the alliance. Ibos betraying us, why wouldn't he have been behind those attacks?"

Ætharr thought of it, and shrugged, "Maybe. It's likely that Ibos was behind those attacks, but that is an uncertainty that we'll never know for sure now." For Ibos was dead, and Brownhide had taken over the Vireo lands, or so it was reported through Jinn.

Judos seemed mollified by Ætharr's agreement in his suspicions. He took another bite of roasted fish, "I don't know what's happening in Vireo, but whatever it is cannot be good."

Ætharr laughed, but his laugh was forced, attempting to move past the doubts and questions, and trying to enjoy this final part of the evening, "Indeed not, Judos. But Blackaxe's messenger arrived two days ago. Ervaring was preparing an invasion of Vireo, and we should hear how it's resulted by tomorrow."

Judos nodded, "The same day that your sons return."

Ætharr sighed in anticipation.

Judos paused, and spoke again, "Ætharr, I know this was a long time past, but I am sorry for what I said before you sent your sons away."

Ætharr awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, "Many things were said that day. I've moved past and forgotten them. Nothing more to be said, really."

He looked at his friend, "You know, Judos, I do remember one thing you said though. You said they would hate me for this."

Judos looked worried, eager to try and make amends by patting the weasel's paw, "You said you forgave your father for it."

"Yes, I did. But a part of me never forgot it. Never forgot how bad of a day that was for me. It was the worst day of my life. At least, before..." Even now, after all this time, Ætharr could still not truly come to grips with his father's murder.

Judos offered Ætharr more ale, "The only way we'll feel better about all this is by facing tomorrow. I don't doubt that they've also been waiting for this day, Ætharr."

Ætharr smiled wanly, "We all have, Judos. We all have."

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So it was a troubled but determined Ætharr who stood by his family, waiting for his sons to come in from their experience in the wild.

It was essential that they not only complete the tests thrown at them, but that they were prepared to continue on that path, to be taught by their father and the other nobility to become what was expected of them.

Rosheen squeezed Ætharr's paw in a sign of her own anticipation in seeing her sons again. Ætharr felt suddenly very sad and guilty about separating his sons from their loving mother. What pain had Rosheen gone through that she'd kept to herself? He had not seen any signs of such resentment as of late, but the last weeks had been good to them both.

Suddenly, a horn was blown in the distance, signalling someone's arrival.

The Ealdor felt a shudder go down his spine as he waited for the wall guards to identify who it was that was approaching.

The wait seemed to last hours. Days. Had a horn been blown to signal something else? Maybe a hunting party back from a successful hunt? Maybe a theign coming in to bring their issues to the Ealdor's attention. Maybe...

"His Lordship's sons are in sight!" came the call.

Ætharr felt something in him freeze in shock and anticipation, and a wild instinct in him wanted to rush out and see his sons again. He restrained himself. Not yet, he thought forcibly, struggling to maintain that paternal instinct in his mind. To distract himself, he picked up little Nuala even as she squealed with delight as she heard her brothers' names called out.

Rosheen stepped forward. The first step was so hesitant, slow, and uncontrolled that it seemed to Ætharr she was possessed by a spirit. Then her next steps were more certain, and then she went forward to see them.

Before she'd gotten far, a group of weasels came into Æthelly's enclosure. Under the stone wall, through the main gateway, came the newcomers. Up in front were three young weasels that could not be mistaken for anyone else.

The Ealdor's sons had returned home.

All of them had grown. They were taller, leaner, and looked more physically imposing. They walked in purposeful strides, and Ætharr could see their muscles were more toned beneath their fur. They looked weathered, older than their age, like young trees after a particularly hard winter.

Ætharr drank in the sight of them. His boys. His sons. Back from what the young Ætharr himself had come back from. How had he felt? He tried to remember what he was feeling at the time. Seeing his father again.

He had felt relieved.

Relieved that he had made it. That he was allowed back to see his father. His mother had been dead by that point, but Ællear had not given his son proper time to adjust. He had to learn what it was like, and so Ætharr had been sent into the wild to learn skills of survival and gain physical and mental strength.

When he had seen his father again, he was happy, but not in a relaxed manner. He remembered feeling agitated, wondering if he'd suddenly be taken away again. Wanting to show that he would learn what he had to to please his father and prove he was worthy of being his son. He had felt a deep drive to match up to his father out of fear of rejection.

Ællear was a hard weasel, but that day he had smiled down with real happiness at the sight of his son. He had allowed Ætharr to hug him in a family embrace. He had spoken words that Ætharr now realized had been dripping with nobility and a fatherly tone that he hadn't often heard before that. Indeed, after that time, Ætharr had come to hear it more often from his father. Especially after he had proven himself to be worthy of being the heir. That fatherly manner, so precious to him, had been a reward for being a good son.

Time seemed to have slowed down, or maybe the thoughts were racing so fast through Ætharr's mind.

As the thoughts raced on, they suddenly halted abruptly as Ætharr's focus returned to his sons.

Rosheen had run forward and had embraced them all. Ædron, the eldest, who had screamed for her as they took him away, received her with an affection that seemed very awkward for him to display. It was certainly awkward to Ætharr, who could hardly remember his own mother anymore.

Lorcan was more comfortable with showing his happiness. The giant of his brothers, much like his uncles Ædall and Cocoran, Lorcan was nearly his mother's height. Ætharr did not doubt that he could probably pick Rosheen up and carry her up the stairs to the hall if he was asked.

It was Ætharr's third son that was the most fascinating.

Ædelmær too had grown. He was now as tall as Ædron, though not as heavy. Where Ædron had a husky look to him, and where Lorcan was built like a muscular giant, Ædelmær was lean. He was no longer the frail, undersized child he had been in his youth; his muscles had grown and had been toned beneath his fur. He looked agile and fit, and his father could see a calculating shine in his eyes. This was truly a son of his. They all were.

Ætharr stepped forward, his eyes never leaving his children. All four of them looked to him (for Nuala had run down to embrace her brothers as Ætharr had watched). What were they thinking, Ætharr wondered to himself. Did they show any sign of hostility. Nuala certainly didn't; Ætharr could tell. She merely looked curious as to what her father would say.

Lorcan, so much like his uncle, had his emotions clearly written on his face. Ætharr could see the affections of a son to a father in his look. But also a nervousness, which reminded Ætharr of his own experiences.

Ædelmær, upon seeing his mother, gave her an embrace and answered her question as to how he was feeling. As Ætharr approached, Ædelmær stepped forward, unlike his siblings. He walked to his father, rather than waiting for him to come.

"Hello father," Ædelmær spoke, not waiting for his father's greetings. Though there was no smile on his face, he was neither aggressive nor emotional. There was a bold cheerfulness to it. As it Ædelmær sought to defy his father by being optimistic and positive.

Ætharr was taken by surprise, but he didn't show it. He nodded solemnly, but almost failed to restrain a bemused grin from crossing his face, "I'm glad to see you and your brothers again."

Ædelmær's head slowly twitched to the side for a moment, "Are you?"

There were sudden intakes of breath from Rosheen, Judos, and many others present. The question was piercing in the innocent, uncertain manner in which it was said. Ætharr was surprised by how much that question hit home. Experiencing life as a father with Nuala for the past weeks had strengthened that part of his mind, that fatherly bond with his children. It had hurt to see them taken away, but it had hurt even more as he worried about what they'd be like when they came back. Now it seemed his fears were confirmed at that insulting question.

Ætharr felt the emotion rise to his face as he tried and failed to keep his voice neutral, "I have always thought of you three, and I have missed your absence as an Ealdor without heirs,' here his voice caught in his throat for a moment, but he continued, 'and as a father without his sons."

He looked at them all- Ædelmær, Ædron, Lorcan- and suddenly understood why his own father had been emotional

The Ealdor spoke again, "Seeing you here is what I have been longing to see since you were taken away to learn what it is to be a Calador weasel. And I am so proud to see you back here, successful in your training and looking like the men you are destined to become."

There was a silence. Judos, hearing the emotions in his old friend's voice, wondered what would happen now. Rosheen, her arms around Nuala and Ædron, was moved by the emotions Ætharr was displaying. Here in front of all in attendance.

Ædelmær suddenly smiled. Not a cold smile of contempt, as his father had shamefully expected to himself, nor was it an amused smile mocking the emotions of his father, but a smile of relief.

Yes, Judos thought, relief. The otter could see it in Ædelmær's face. The young weasel wanted to know that his father was proud of him, he wanted to know that his father loved them and did not send them away to punish them. Ædelmær slowly stepped forward and embraced his father, much to everyone's surprise and relief.

Ætharr's other sons came forward to embrace their father as well. Lorcan, less emotional than his brother, gave his father a submissive nod of his head before hugging his father, as if he was not addressing his father, but as a servant addresses his master. It troubled Ætharr for a brief moment, but it was drowned in his relief to hold his second son again. Lorcan would be a mighty warrior and a faithful friend to his allies, but based on what Ætharr had seen of him, and what Judos had spoken of in regard to the boy's education, Lorcan would not make a good Ealdor, nor did he even seek such a title.

Judos had begun walking forward to greet the three returned sons. He was their guardian, appointed by their parents to protect them. Knowing him as their teacher and initial instructor, Lorcan and Ædelmær were happy to see him.

Ædron's face was more reserved as he came forward. Ætharr couldn't tell what his eldest son was thinking. He was intensely interested in finding out, for this was the Heir to Calador's Ealdorship. In Ædron there lay future of Calador. Would he be good enough to hold that future?

His eldest son nodded his head in acknowledgement of his father's presence, and remarked, "It is good to see you again, father." before embracing him as Ædelmær and Lorcan had.

Judos heard the greetings, and since the younger sons had turned to greet their mother, the otter looked to where Ædron stood with his father. Ædron, in embracing his father, had to turn his head. In this case, he had turned his head to the right, where Judos could see his face. He was not looking at the otter, but as Judos watched the scene, he noticed something in the young weasel's face.

It had been missing in the others. It smoldered behind the weasel's eyes. Bitterness. Resent. Judos knew that look well, and realized that not all had gone well out of this.

The otter shuddered as he suddenly thought of the consequences this would bring to Calador.


	26. Chapter 26

25

Roaveen had meticulously planned the strategy of attack, and had placed his forces accordingly.

Now all that mattered was whether Ervaring took the bait. For if he did not, all of this would have been in vain.

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Ervaring, meanwhile, was leading an army of more than six hundred Jeri and Hunan troops into Vireo land. Ervaring was the oldest and most respected of the Jeri clan's generals. He had been Blackaxe's second-in-command ever since the great wars against Oorlog. Now he held a high command while Blackaxe reigned as king. Luther Pelopidas, the legendary commander of the Sacred Band, was the only general equal to Ervaring.

It had been the future long dreamed of by the Jeri martens. Ætharr's coming, and his alliance with Blackaxe, had changed everything forever. No longer were the Hunan warlords the tyrants of the Jeri lands. No longer were the martens locked in a war they seemed doomed to lose. The Hunan had been crushed, all but for a few who had seen the light and had turned to the Allies' side. These Hunan were still regarded suspiciously by some, but Blackaxe had made his peace with Kazahley, the Hunan leader, and the two worked together in war. Jeri and Hunan were allies now against Calador's enemies.

Ervaring had been through it all. He had fought at the Battle of Verfluchtes Land and had seen Oorlog slain by Ætharr. The Ealdor had given the Jeri hope when there had been none, and Ervaring had nothing but respect for such a character. Ætharr had been seen as the golden wonder of the vermin clans, and was the most powerful leader in the history of the clans. His alliances with Jeri, Hunan, Vireo, and Falcarragh had been strategically made, and they were pillars in his impregnable fortress.

But one of these pillars had fallen. The Vireo had been consumed in civil war, and Ibos, that cowardly king of the Vireo, had been supplanted by Brownhide, who had now made a warlike effort on Calador and its allies. Hares of Salamandastron had been rumoured as being part of it, but the rumours were unproven in Ervaring's mind.

Now the Jeri and Hunan were marching into the Vireo lands.

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The plan was in motion. Ervaring had no idea of what was coming, Roaveen had made sure of it. Escape routes were narrowed down into choke points by the trenches and positions of warriors. Roaveen intended to lead the assault as a proper Badger Lord should, even though he knew that Brownhide would not. Roaveen secretly detested Brownhide the more he was with him, despite the charming flattery heaped on him by the stoat. Roaveen had never been as clever or as knowledgeable as his brother Thornback, but over the seasons he had developed cunning and deceit. It was how he was so able to fool the Long Patrol officers and such hares in his Mountain Regiment. Now he would use it to fool Brownhide.

On the far right side of the battlefield, Ormond and Sophus knelt quietly with a platoon of Mountain Regiment hares. Sophus strung his longbow, while Ormond's paw never left the handle of his wicked-looking falchion.

"What happens after this?" Ormond asked Sophus. There was no question on whether the ambush would succeed or not.

Sophus shrugged, "Well, my dear fellow, then we either march into the Hunan and Jeri lands, or we go right to Calador from here."

Ormond shrugged, "One way or the other we're fighting for vermin to kill other vermin."

Sophus raised an eyebrow, "Steady on, chap. We're fighting for Lord Roaveen. And if this ragamuffin Brownhide decides to try and put a knife in our backs then we'll fight him too."

Ormond said nothing for a moment. The two friends looked about the parts of the location that they could see. Being in a place where the escape route would normally be, they were in a slanted view of the site. Behind them lay a series of hilly country covered with brittle plants and thorns. It would serve as a good spot for an army to retreat and form a strong defence, so Roaveen had had various trenches made to trap any retreating soldiers into a narrow passage where they would easily be massacred by the ambushers. Roaveen had split his forces on either side of the river, which would help in confusing the unsuspecting Ervaring and his army. Thick forest helped conceal most of the ambushers, and a small clearing provided a lure to any unsuspecting soldiers.

Sophus looked at the younger hares around him, "Right, rest at ease, troops. It's bally tantamount that we let the cads come up without hearing us."

A young hare from the Regiment called out, "So is this the Calador army, Captain Sophus?"

Sophus shook his head, "No, it's the Jerriha and the Humann tribes I think they're called."

"What did they say about the Calador army? Are we going to fight them next?"

"Less of the loose jaw there, Kiptail!" Ormond snapped out. Sophus sighed at his friend's temper, but knew that there was nothing to be said. A small flag had been thrown into the air, a signal to the ambushers on the right flank to be ready. They had to keep quiet now, and wait...

""" "" """ "" " """ """ "" "" "

Ervaring walked past a large oak tree. His company was ragged, the lines torn apart due to the thickness of the woods. Ervaring knew that this was a dangerous moment for them. Six hundred troops were difficult to control in such a situation, so Ervaring had the army halt amongst the brush and trees for a break.

The Jeri and Hunan clustered into groups, pulling rations from their packs, sharpening weapons, and talking amongst themselves. Some went over to the river and refilled canteens.

Ervaring summoned one of his subordinate commanders, a young lieutenant named Opfer who hadn't seen much war experience except for the wars against the Alcax tribe. Ervaring would have wanted a captain like Jager to be amongst the ranks, but Blackaxe had stationed Jager in charge of subduing the remainder of the Alcax offensive.

"Lieutenant," Ervaring said in his slow voice, "I want you to take a platoon of skirmishers forward and see what's up ahead. Sound the alarm if you come under attack."

"Yes General." Opfer saluted. He was nervous, eager to prove himself to the old Ervaring, so he took thirty troops and set out immediately.

The platoon had been selected with much political thought in Opfer's mind. He took the best fifteen Jeri and the best fifteen Hunan skirmishers he could find and set out in a covert scouting operation.

The martens in the group were expert climbers, and so they silently made their way through the trees as the Hunan equivalents crept along the ground with Opfer. Spread in skirmishing order, the vermin on the far ends couldn't see each other, but instead looked out ahead for any signs of movement.

Suddenly one of the martens made a special whistle, a signal. In a flash the thirty-one soldiers grouped together near a large elm.

"What did you see?" Opfer asked the marten, trying not to sound nervous.

"A clearing up ahead. if we follow the river we'll hit it no problem."

"Did you see anybody?"

"No, but we should take a second look just in case, Lieutenant."

Opfer paused, knowing his next decision was crucial. He looked around at the faces watching him, and decided to go with his instinct, "Okay, the martens will go up into the trees to see if anybody's there. Just take a long look and let us know if you see anything. Don't take too long though." he added hastily, knowing how ambiguous it sounded.

The Jeri martens headed out to take a look, leaving Opfer and the Hunan troops to wait for their return.

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"Get down!" hissed the lookout on the end of the trench.

Sophus and Ormond ducked down as the others in their platoon followed pulled ready-made coverings of foliage and brambles, covering the holes so that someone looking from an elevated position would have trouble seeing them.

A faint rustling in the trees gave the scouts away. Nobody would have noticed unless they'd been waiting for it. And the veterans of the Long Patrol who now served in the Mountain Regiment still remembered such prized skills as hearing the enemy without them hearing or seeing you.

None dared breathe too loudly, let alone move. There was no indication that the martens left as far as they could tell. They needed to rely on the lookouts who would lie ever so still and keep their ears pricked for any new sounds.

Sophus looked at Ormond, who had curled himself into a ball at the bottom of the trench. His eyes were closed, and he had folded his ears against his head. Sophus took a small breath of air so as not to inhale any dust. A single cough could give them away.

The lookout in their trench hadn't moved for a long time, so fixated was she on listening for any signs. Suddenly she turned around and nodded, "They're gone. Be ready for it."

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Ervaring ate a biscuit half-heartedly. The dry food was good for long marches and campaigns, but the old general was starting to wonder if he really was cut out for this kind of leadership anymore. It was about time that he could resign his position and take up a more peaceful existence as a counsellor to the King. He had lived out a great reputation, and was highly regarded by his colleagues. Maybe after this strike into the Vireo lands, he should give it up...

Suddenly a voice called out, "General Ervaring! The scouts are back!"

Ervaring turned to look as Opfer and his thirty soldiers came back. Ervaring nodded at the young lieutenant's salute, "Any news?"

"If we follow the river, sir, we'll come across some more open land. The forest thins out a bit, but there's lots of brush in the clearings. Plus the land gives way to some hilly ground."

"Did you see anyone, Lieutenant?"

"No sir. Place looks deserted. We took our time to make sure."

Ervaring nodded, "Very well, we'll move out. We can find some elevation on those hills and set up a night camp over yonder."

Sluggishly the six hundred troops got prepared to move out. Ervaring set them in a loose formation, for the forest was no place for ordered lines of battle. And there was no foe after all.

Ervaring placed himself in the middle of the procession, for many of the younger troops outstripped him with their more powerful strides.

'I really am getting too old for this,' Ervaring thought, 'If we can take care of Brownhide and his troops soon enough...'

"General?" a veteran Hunan soldier spoke up, "Permission to speak?"

Ervaring looked at the Hunan soldier in mild surprise. He had not quite gotten over how they were now allies, "Granted."

"Are we meeting up with any other units?"

Ervaring thought about it, "Well, the Caladors have called for peace. Ætharr wants there to be a relinquishing of offensives. So King Blackaxe and your King Kazahley have sent us to establish a position in the Vireo lands so that we may arrange to make peace in long term."

"And if they resist, General?"

"We fight. If they resist, we will call for the head of Brownhide as our price."

The Hunan soldier nodded, "Thank you, general." He gave a hasty salute as he marched.

Ervaring turned his head back to the front, chuckling to himself. Imagine, a Hunan soldier saluting a general from the Jeri clan! The world had changed so much in his lifetime, the old marten thought, even as the screams sounded.

Up in the front ranks, arrows suddenly shot out and slew many as the tree line thinned out and gave way to the river and brush.

Ervaring stared in shock as he began to see some slings and arrows being launched out from unknown places. Some of the arrows were as long as the javelins they carried!, Ervaring thought with horor. What was going on?

Up nearer the front, Ervaring could see Lieutenant Opfer, panicking at the sudden attack. Waving his sword, the Lieutenant was trying to marshal a shield wall, despite the fact that only the Calador fyrd had ever managed such a manoeuvre. An arrow suddenly struck him in his face, the point coming right out the back of his head. The Lieutenant stood there for a brief moment, his balance temporarily held, but then slid lifelessly to the ground.

The old general turned to the dozens of soldiers around him. They stood awkwardly, unprepared for this kind of attack. They were in no battle order, prevented from doing so by the trees.

Ervaring called out in a loud voice, "Officers marshal your platoons! We're going to retreat back behind a rearguard action!"

At that moment a host of Vireo troops surged forward from their hidden places in the forest and began attacking the surprised soldiers.

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Roaveen's orders had been simple. Wait until the first hundred were in clear viewing, and then fire. Brownhide's troops, who had established hiding spots by the river, would emerge and strike quickly. The hares knew their job and did it well. The Jeri and Hunan soldiers were caught by surprise.

Sophus stared coldly on as he loosed another shaft in the direction where he'd shot his first arrow.

"That was a good shot, Sophus," Ormond remarked, "That young officer took it clean in the face."

"Save it, pal," Sophus remarked as he fired his arrow into a polecat's midriff, "We've got to charge soon or else Brownhide's company will get slaughtered."

"Right," Ormond remarked. He picked up his falchion, "Alright troops! They're trapped and surrounded! Combat hares to me!" He jumped up and charged forward. He was followed by half of the platoon, all of them yelling the ancient Salamandastron battle cry. The other hares in hiding were also coming out to make their strike.

Sophus looked to the other half of the platoon, "We have to keep cover, and make sure to kill any foebeast trying to escape!"

Suddenly, a deep throated bellow sounded, and the ambushers' final attack came thundering forward, Roaveen at its head.

"Eeuulaliaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

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Ervaring heard the cry. What was that? Who called such a battle cry?

Even as he turned to look at the front of his army, he could see dozens of enemy soldiers charge forward, wielding weapons of many sorts, but focusing on lances and swords.

The old marten stared, transfixed. Hares.

The rumours had been true. Salamandastron had allied itself with the Vireo. Hell's teeth, the old general thought to himself as he tried to collect himself.

All around him, his soldiers were dying. The Vireo platoons were focusing on the bigger groups, weaving in between the trees to confuse the Jeri and Hunan troops. Martens, foxes, polecats, rats. weasels, ferrets, and stoats were all being killed by other ferrets, weasels, foxes and rats. Ervaring even found himself wondering who was a Vireo and who was a Hunan, for only the Jeri tribe were martens.

In his panic, he turned on his old instincts, "Martens! To me! Rally to me!''

Dozens heard their general's call and hurried towards it. They were followed by many of the Hunan as well. Soon there was a tight circle of soldiers around Ervaring. They held up shields and deflected sling stones and arrows, while hurling back javelins.

Ervaring drew his sword, "Right, let's break through this rabble and try and get the others around us!" Seeing his soldiers organize and obey his commands restored Ervaring to the calm of battle, a calm he had not felt in a while. He realized he had missed it.

The group slowly backed away from the hares and other main attackers, finding solace in the forest's darker atmosphere. The scattered Vireo were too busy laying chaos amongst the main group, and those that got in the way were viciously slain.

Ervaring looked around, seeking to find a route that could lead them out of this hell hole. He heard the screams of battle lessening, but then he thought of all those soldiers dead. This had been an elite unit amongst the Jeri and Hunan. Ervaring had fought alongside many of them against Oorlog. The old marten wept for his own stupidity.

Suddenly a roar sounded that chilled his heart to the bone. The marten turned back to see a fully grown male badger lead a new platoon of hares forward, with a large broadsword that he swung with both paws. He was heading right for the group, pointing at them, "Don't let any escape! Kill them all!"

Ervaring waved his sword in the air, "Troops! Prepare to face them head on!"

"" the badger yelled as he hurled himself forward like a battering ram against the tightly grouped soldiers with Ervaring. Behind him came agile hares leaping into the gaps with their long lances.

Ervaring was lost in the maelstrom of blows and wails around him, when he suddenly found himself facing the badger. He towered over the old general, his eyes red with bloodlust.

All fear suddenly left the old general, for he knew he was about to die. Now all that was left was to die properly. He lifted his sword feebly.

The badger, even through his wrath, laughed cruelly, "You are an old fool!" With a mighty paw, he wrenched the sword from Ervaring's paws. He dropped his own broadsword.

Ervaring paled at the realization that he was to be killed with his own weapon. The weapon that he had used almost all his life. He felt tears prick at his eyes as he couldn't help but plead, "No..."

He spoke no more, for Roaveen had cut off his head with such force that it flew from his shoulders and landed next to a nearby tree.

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At the battle's end, there were no Jeri or Hunan left alive. The Vireo and Mountain Regiment made sure of it with ruthless efficiency.

As the day waned into night, the Vireo made many fires in celebration. They hung heads from the trees and cheered gleefully. Food was brought out to be cooked in honour of this victory. Ervaring, the veteran general whose reputation had been feared by many, was now mutilated in mockery, and his head would be sent back to the Jeri lands as a warning.

The Mountain Regiment did not mutilate the corpses. They grouped together in disgust of these Vireo and their bloody gestures in victory.

Only Roaveen stood on with great satisfaction. He had orchestrated a terrible victory, with no casualties on his side. The only dead were fourteen or so Vireo troops, while only Captain Ormond had been wounded on his foot paw when a Jeri marten had stabbed him in the leg with a spear.

The captain had been visited by Roaveen earlier in the evening, and a proud Roaveen had appointed him to the rank of First Captain in the Regiment. Ormond had been humble in his appointment and Roaveen had cheerfully clapped the hare on the shoulder.

See me now, father, Roaveen thought as he examined the butchery of the battlefield. Thornback was not here to see it either, nor was Korari. A pity. But perhaps not. He did not need them to enjoy his victory.

He sought out Brownhide, who was celebrating with his troops. Ale had been brought up to serve the victorious troops. Brownhide had clearly been drinking even before the battle was won.

"It is done, stoat," Roaveen remarked, and even then, at that moment, Brownhide's eyes flashed with fear at the sight of the badger in front of him.

The stoat quickly composed himself, "Indeed my lord. We will always be grateful to you. Though I must say that with this defeat it may rouse our enemies from slumber."

Roaveen nodded, "They won't know about us, I know. The usual routine. But I want my troops stationed in your capital until we get word of a counterattack. I shall want proper rooms for myself of course. Is your palace sufficient?"

Brownhide quickly gave a diplomatic agreement, "But of course, my Lord, but that may not be arranged too quickly."

Roaveen frowned, "Why not? You're in charge damn you!"

Brownhide hiccoughed drunkenly before replying, "Ah well, there is something you should know about that..."


	27. Chapter 27

26

The adder rose slowly, hissing menacingly.

Ædron stood there, watching the snake come up to him. His face was coldly set, waiting for the moment to strike.

It was a big snake; much longer than the young weasel, but the weasel was armed with two throwing hatchets that he held in both hands.

Ædron blinked, so that the adder's hypnotic gaze wouldn't ensnare him. The adder was now eye to eye with the weasel. Ædron could have reached out and petted it if he'd wanted to.

This was no hunt for food; it was a test that he had to partake in. Ædron knew what his father had sent him out for. It was a special test that a son of the Ealdor must do to overcome fear, and make use of speed. It was the most dangerous test that the Ealdor's sons would do, short of going into battle.

A battle with an adder was something that nobeast sought, and for good reason. The snakes were very fast and very lethal. It took speed, daring, and luck to slay an adder. His father had done it at his age, Ædron knew, and now it was his turn.

What Ædron didn't know was that Judos was standing not far away from him, a stone ready in his sling. He had been given specific orders from Ætharr. He wanted to test his sons, but wanted someone there to save them if they did not prove able to accomplish the task.

He waited and watched. The adder was taking its time, gazing into the weasel's eyes for a sign. Adders could tell, better than anything else, what a creature would do. They could somehow see it in the eyes.

Judos felt agitated all of a sudden. Adders were fast, he knew that fact well. But how would he know when to shoot without having young Ædron bitten? Adder venom was quick to work, and though Judos had an antidote in his pouch, he feared having to tell Ætharr of his son's tragic accident.

""" "" "" ""

Ædron stood as still as he could, feeling a nervous twitch developing in his paws. He stood ready, nerving himself to move, killing this fearsome snake in front of him. He knew that he had to wait for the adder to move first. Or was he supposed to move first? Ædron couldn't remember.

The snake was making no move to strike, perhaps out of an equal wariness.

Ædron suddenly found himself staring straight into its eyes, much like his own father had done all that time ago. But he wasn't aware of that. He was aware of his own fear, shamefully feeling it bubble in his gut. Fear had been something to be ashamed of, he'd been taught. It was something that could never be revealed, else it would be the death of you.

The adder seemed to sense the weakness in the weasel, for it approached closer, swaying as it moved forward.

Judos cursed under his breath and prepared to launch a sling stone. He would rather deprive Ædron of a kill than let him get bitten.

Both adder and weasel heard the sudden noise of Judos' sling. The adder moved first, lunging towards the sound of the noise. In stunned surprise, Ædron jumped back away from the snake.

Judos' stone struck the snake between the eyes before the otter leaped away from the sudden charge. The hard stone stunned the adder, halting its strike, but it was not unconscious.

"Strike, Ædron!" Judos yelled.

The young weasel quickly leaped forward, swinging the throwing hatchet rather than hurling it. He buried it in the adder, nearly severing it in two. Before the snake could react, Judos had struck its head with another stone from his sling.

Otter and weasel approached the lifeless body of the reptile.

Ædron stared at Judos with a strange look in his eyes. Judos was confused at first at the masked hostility in the weasel's attitude, but knew that this was an insult to Ædron. He had not only shown hesitation and fear in the face of this test, but Judos had judged him necessary to rescue. But the greatest insult of all was that Ædron had not known that the otter was there, and that meant his father had doubted his abilities. This was not true, of course- Ætharr was merely ensuring the safety of his son- but Judos knew that Ædron had a buried resent against his father, and would be further antagonized by this realization.

Judos hastened to speak, "You did well, Ædron. Your father will be glad to see you home safe."

The words sounded empty even to the otter. He had lived among the Calador long enough to know that this test had to be completed in order for the heir to secure his position as worthy of that title. Until it was accomplished, he would be looked down upon.

Ædron said nothing to this, merely looking at Judos with mixed feelings of shame and anger. However, he dared not openly admit these feelings. Judos was his appointed guardian, the closest friend to his father, and of course, he had saved his life. So he was left to let the emotions fester while they headed back for Æthelly.

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Ætharr, waiting for his son's return, sat upon his throne while his son trudged into the hall, followed at a distance by Judos. Ætharr's cousin Ædall was also present, as were the theigns Horal, Ptolemy, and Craterus.

His face remained impassive as he asked, "Have you succeeded, Ædron?"

Ædron paused a while before answering, "I was…unable to complete the task as you instructed." After a pause, he spoke up again, "I shall ensure better results next time."

Ætharr nodded, "Be sure that you do." His face betrayed no emotion, nor did his voice, but Ædron still left the hall in a great hurry.

Judos nodded to Ætharr as he approached, "He was unharmed."

Ætharr gave a half smile that was as filled with irony as it was with gratitude, "You did your job, Judos. Thank you."

The otter returned the smile hesitantly before joining the other theigns in the court.

Ptolemy smiled in greeting, "Young Ædron didn't look too happy."

Judos sighed, "I fear he will let his emotions get the better of him if he is not careful."

Ptolemy was smooth in his diplomacy, "He's still young. A good Ealdor always needs a bit of fire in his blood."

Judos nodded in agreement, "So what is this meeting that Ætharr has arranged tonight?"

The weasel shrugged, "We shall see. Though I doubt it will be very good news."


	28. Chapter 28

27

Ætharr, his long axe in paw, presided comfortably over his warrior-theigns as though they hadn't been at peace all these months. His expression was dark, as though he'd been brooding for many days in some depression.

Judos, Gyras, Horal, Craterus, Ptolemy, Ædall, and Ulric were seated in a circle with Ætharr shunning his throne for a place in the circle. Almost as if they weren't in Æthelly but were still on some campaign in the countryside. Judos wondered what the terrible news was that Ptolemy had alluded to before. Ætharr had not been so bitter earlier that day, though the otter knew that Ætharr was more than capable of hiding his emotions when necessary. Still, it baffled him to see Ætharr in such a state.

"Friends,' Ætharr began solemnly, 'I have received very dark and unpleasant news. Jinn is dead."

Everyone's backs straightened in shock. Nobody had expected something like this. Jinn, the lithe spy master of Calador, was dead? It couldn't be. Judos looked to Ædall and Horal, their faces devastated by the news of what had happened to their old friend. Ulric sighed heavily, knowing something terrible had happened if Jinn could be killed.

"It can't be..." Ædall protested, staring at his cousin in anguish.

The Ealdor nodded coldly, "It's true. He was found in his lodgings a few days ago. We're not sure what killed him, though he was not slain with any weapon."

"Poison? Or suffocation?" Ptolemy suggested.

Ætharr shrugged, "The guards swear that nobody entered or left Jinn's quarters all night. They offer their lives forfeit as validation of their honesty. I believe them. It must have been some kind of poison."

"Maybe he died of natural causes?" Ulric offered.

Ætharr glared at the old theign, "Jinn suffered from no illness and was almost as fit as I am. The day someone like Jinn just drops dead of a natural cause is the day I grow wings and fly south for the winter!"

Judos raised a paw, "Do we know who is behind this murder?"

Ætharr sighed, and nodded, "One of Jinn's spies returned from a fact-finding mission earlier today. He was in Vireo territory. It turns out that we have terribly misjudged the situation we face with them."

"What do you mean, Ealdor?" Gyras asked.

Ætharr's face darkened, "Ibos is still alive."

Judos almost stood up in astonishment, "What? This is ridiculous! What about Brownhide?"

"Brownhide is a puppet ruler playing a role,' Ætharr explained, 'Ibos lulled us into a false sense of security and faked his death. All this military campaigning has been his work from the beginning. It was he who sent assassins to my Hall the night Ferric was killed. And it was he who bribed soldiers to attack Viggo in the south."

Judos could not believe his ears. His mind went back to the raving old figure of Viggo, laughing at his attackers for believing in his guilt. He had been innocent of aiding the enemy? Yet another theign dead for an injustice only suspected of him, Judos thought.

Ætharr continued on, "Nevertheless, it is good that we know of this truth. Ibos has certainly shown to be far cleverer than any of us have guessed, but this mistake can be corrected. We must further strengthen our borders and be on the lookout for spies."

"What of Jinn's network?" Horal interrupted. He, like most of the theigns present, was very curious about the seemingly endless number of spies that Jinn had controlled in the name of Calador's security.

"It has been damaged almost beyond repair with Jinn's passing,' Ætharr answered, 'however, it will continue on a much smaller scale."

Judos couldn't help but feel relieved. Jinn had always seemed too knowledgeable and interfering in his aims to spy and control. Certainly he had been loyal to Ætharr all his life, but Judos had never been able to trust him completely. It was partly why he did not grieve Jinn's passing as Ætharr did.

"In the meantime, we shall resume being a state of war,' Ætharr decreed, 'though I will not send out troops just yet."

Judos wasn't sure how he felt about this. He enjoyed peace more and more as he'd gotten used to it, but he suddenly knew that war would soon be thrust upon the people of Calador, whether they liked it or not.

Gyras, the most warlike of the theigns, spoke up, "Shall there be no mustering of troops?"

Ætharr shook his head, "Not on a public level. I want the professionals armed, however, and ready to set out on a moment's notice. We will hear how Ervaring's campaign has gone against the Vireo and their Salamandastron allies, and that will determine what we shall do. Is there anything you wish to say?"

He sat back and waited for any questions or opinions from his theigns. Nobody had anything to say, not even Ptolemy or Judos. They merely looked back at their Ealdor, immersed in thought at what the future held.

After a minute of silence, Ætharr nodded, "Good. Then I shall add one more thing. There will be no announcement of Jinn's death. We shall continue as though he was still alive. The population always felt more secure with the knowledge that he was on the lookout." His voice contained, for the first time in that meeting, a twinge of grief at the loss of his old friend. Judos felt sorry for Ætharr, even if he did not mourn the passing of a cold and merciless spy master.

As the theigns got up to leave, Judos and Ptolemy hung back to have a word.

"What do you think?" Judos asked Ptolemy.

The weasel paused in thought, and then remarked, "I believe that there are dark tidings on the way."

"From Vireo?"

"Aye, but not just that. Ætharr has been terribly shaken by the death of Jinn. He wants vengeance, but he is conflicted over what to do."

Judos stared at Ptolemy, "You think Ætharr will start a war to drive the Vireo to extinction as he has done with the Millar and the Loptrio?"

Ptolemy shrugged, "Ætharr is a creature of war. For all his passion for his family, and his enjoyment of their company, he has ever been more at home facing his foes with axes and shields. Jinn's murder is ugly to him for it was a conspiracy hiding in the shadows. He always relied on Jinn to shield him from this kind of warfare. Now that Jinn is gone, who knows what can happen now."

Judos shuddered at what Ptolemy was saying, but had no other response to give.


	29. Chapter 29

28

Ætharr tried to put Jinn's death out of his mind as he pushed a branch out of his face.

He was on a hunting expedition with his three sons. He had shunned his long axe for the occasion, bringing only his hand axe and a number of throwing hatchets. He also carried a longbow and a quiver of arrows. His sons were equipped with slings, though the three of them also had bows and arrows to fit their smaller stature.

Ætharr looked at them as they trudged forward, his heavy heart lifted with sudden pride and affection for his children. They were continuously improving, showing themselves to be true Calador weasels.

Ædron was the most serious and solemn, focused entirely on the hunt. He stared coldly upwards, listening for any sound of birds to shoot at. Rosheen wondered sometimes whether Ædron had grown up too fast, but Ætharr saw little amiss. Their son was determined to prove himself, and saw failures in himself as unacceptable mistakes.

Lorcan, the most laid back of his sons, was almost more Falcarragh than Calador. Ætharr secretly knew that Lorcan would never be a good Ealdor, but he saw that Lorcan did not want such responsibility anyway. He would grow up, like his uncle Ædall, to be Calador's champion, and a trusted right hand to the Ealdor. Presently, Lorcan carelessly strolled on, oblivious of disturbing foliage, seeing the event more as an exercise than as a real hunt for food. Occasionally he stood stock still, as if sensing prey, but often he found that he had been mistaken and continued on loping through the undergrowth.

"Lorcan. Be more aware of your surroundings," Ætharr called out. Lorcan nodded and began moving more quietly, but after a good ten minutes of this focus without results, he tired and decided to spare his effort for when it mattered. Ætharr rolled his eyes as he thought of Rosheen's brother, Cocoran. Lorcan would almost be more content among his mother's people than his father's. But that did not change the fact that he would grow up to be a great warrior.

"Father! I see something!"

This excited whisper came from Ætharr's third son. Turning to his right, Ætharr glanced over to where Ædelmær stood ready, an arrow already on string. The lean, young weasel was staring up at a clump of branches, fearing even to move or make a sound.

Ætharr motioned for Lorcan and Ædron to halt. Both youngsters stopped in their tracks, looking at their younger brother.

Slowly, Ætharr turned to look at the branches that his son had pointed out. He didn't see or hear anything coming from that point, but that proved little. He waited instead for Ædelmær to make a make a move.

Tension furrowed Ædelmær's brow as he aimed his shot carefully. He clearly was aiming to impress his father, showing him that he had learned well. Ætharr waited patiently, noting how the young weasel did not tremble or flinch holding his arrow to string. The corded muscles on Ædelmær's frame were toned beneath his fur, which had begun to darken and attain a certain shine to it. Ætharr couldn't help but notice that Ædelmær seemed to resemble his father more than any of his other children.

The four weasels stood stock still as seconds continued to pass. A troop of baby squirrels could have ambushed them at that point. All of their focus was on Ædelmær, who continued to stare up at the clump of branches.

Suddenly, Ædron began coughing loudly. In his surprise, Ædelmær released his shaft. It disappeared into the leaves and twigs, even as Ædelmær cried out in frustration. This was immediately turned into a yelp of shock when a piercing cry rang out. A young male starling shot upwards into the air, Ædelmær's arrow in its wing.

Instantly, Ædron hurled a stone from his sling. The bird was knocked out cold, crashing to the ground in a heap of feathers. Out of mercy to the bird, Ætharr walked up to it and snapped its neck before it could wake up. A smile formed on his face as he turned to congratulate his son.

He was surprised to see a look of anger on Ædelmær's face. "You did that on purpose!" He raged as he stared accusingly at his brother. Ædron met him with a cold look of indifference. Lorcan merely looked to his father, wondering how Ætharr would react.

Ætharr looked from his eldest to his youngest son, considering the situation. Ædelmær had clearly meant to kill that bird, and he had placed a lot of his pride on the line. Ætharr wasn't sure if Ædron had really meant to cough and disrupt his brother, but Ætharr personally didn't think that Ædelmær needed to take such offence. It was he who had even noticed the bird, and he had still wounded it. 'Young pride,' Ætharr thought to himself; he had known his share of it as a youngster, and he was confidant that his sons would grow out of it as well.

"Hold, son," He said to Ædelmær. The young weasel looked to his father, the anger fading from his face as he sought to compose himself in front of Ætharr.

"There is a time to give out accusations. Now is not one of those times. You have not been shamed, despite what you feel now. You must learn that rage serves well in battle, but a clear head will save your life elsewhere."

Ædelmær knew that his father was right, but his pride still felt slighted. However, the young weasel humbly nodded at his father's words and accepted them.

A call rang out, "Lord Ætharr! Lord Ætharr!"

Perplexed, Ætharr looked into the distance, trying to see where the call was coming from, "I'm here with my sons!"

"My lord! There is a delegation from Blackaxe of the Jeri tribe! He has urgent news that cannot wait!"

Ætharr's brow furrowed, "Is that word of Ervaring's campaign, then? He set out quite some time ago..." Realizing he was talking out loud, Ætharr turned to his three sons, "It's time for us to go."

"But father, is it possible for us to travel to Uncle Judos' lodgings? We're not far away from his lands, and we've proved ourselves during the Foremost Training."

Ætharr smiled inwardly at his youngest son's naming of Judos. It was an interesting title to give, and Ætharr was sure that neither he nor Judos would mind that title of affection.

He nodded his head, "Very well, but head back to Æthelly immediately after you make it to Judos' hall. He will doubtless provide an escort if it is needed." Turning, Ætharr headed in the direction of the messenger's voice.

It was then, after his father's departure, that Ædron responded to his brother's accusation.

"You're blaming me for your failure?" Ædron asked sourly.

"I was going to kill that bird, and you coughed on purpose just so I'd make a mistake!" Ædelmær replied coldly, no longer losing his temper.

Lorcan stepped forward, "Hold on, Ædelmær! You heard Father, you still got the bird, Ædron didn't mean it."

"You know damn well he meant to do it," Ædelmær replied, his initial anger turning into biting resentment, "How could he have so easily had a slingstone prepared after he'd coughed? He's always using dirty tricks like that, it's high time he answered up to them!"

Ædron smirked, "Are you so worked up about it that you'll fight me? After all the times I beat you without any trouble? I thought you learned from those experiences, you runt."

Ædelmær flushed, his eyes moistening with shame and rage at this humiliation. Before Lorcan could say anything, Ædelmær suddenly spoke, "You've always tried to belittle me, Ædron. Whether we were with Uncle Judos, or during our training, you've always used me to hide from your own failures. And for the record, I learned to beat you as a child. I didn't cry myself to sleep during the training sessions..."

He didn't get further, for his brother had roared in anger and launched himself forward. Both weasels began fighting viciously.

The biggest of the three of them, Lorcan hastily broke the two apart, "Shut up, the two of you! Let's just get to Uncle Judos' hall, and forget this happened."

Ædelmær and Ædron stared at each other with dislike, but did not dispute Lorcan's decision.

The three of them headed off in the direction of Judos' lands, Lorcan carrying the body of the starling, with Ædelmær's shaft still in its wing.


	30. Chapter 30

29

Judos smiled as the three sons of Ætharr sat down and tucked into their meals, "Eat hearty, boys. You've had quite a day."

Ædelmær looked up through a mouthful of roast bird, "Thank you, Uncle Judos."

They had come into Judos' hall only an hour ago, just in time for Judos to be having his own supper. Pleased at having these boys under his wing again for a time, Judos arranged for them to have a good meal before going back home to their parents. They had been walking for quite some time and now happily took second and third helpings. Judos noticed how much they had grown and were still growing. They would all make their parents very proud.

Judos' longtime assistant, Selma, entered the room. Her expression was that of great worry, "Judos? There is a messenger from Ætharr here to see you. He has arrived here in a terrible hurry."

Judos nodded, worried at what such terrible news could bring. Excusing himself from the table, Judos followed Selma outside.

The weasel was still gasping, having clearing sprinted most of the way. Judos continued to be impressed by the endurance and physical fitness of most Calador weasels, even as he felt his age starting to slow him down.

"What's the news that Ætharr needs me to know?" Judos asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

In between breaths, the weasel delivered news that even Judos wasn't prepared to hear, "A massacre... on the Vireo border! The expedition's been routed... no survivors! Ervaring's 'ead has been sent back to King Blackaxe!"

Judos was stunned. Ervaring had never been close with Judos, but they had gotten acquainted during the war against Oorlog and had enjoyed each other's company well enough. Ervaring had been Blackaxe's second-in-command, which made his death a very grave situation. Not to mention the deaths of hundreds of Jeri and Hunan soldiers.

"How has Ibos done this?" Judos asked, "Vireo's best troops died during the Oorlog campaign! Ibos and Brownhide are no successors to Blackback and Coldbane!"

"We don't know! King Blackaxe is in a rage, and the Ealdor is equally puzzled, lord."

Judos pondered what had happened. He suddenly remembered what old Viggo had said about hares from Salamandastron, and what Ætharr had told his theigns about Vireo's new alliance with the hares. Truly, this threat had not been taken as seriously as it should have.

"I still can't believe they were caught so unawares! Ervaring was a skilled leader!" Judos spoke out loud, realizing that he sounded panicked. Calming down, he looked at Selma, "I'll be accompanying the boys back to Æthelly. Ætharr will want his theigns in attendance."

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Ætharr's composure was still intact, yet those who knew him best would certainly recognize the rage that was possessing him, as well as the grief he felt over the loss of Ervaring and so many good troops.

The theigns were subdued for the most part, though the more warlike ones spoke loudly of revenge.

"Nobody is going anywhere rashly!" Ætharr responded firmly, "If the Badger is indeed working with Ibos, it would explain why they won this miraculous victory. Ibos and Brownhide would never be able to arrange this by themselves. Salamandastron is a powerful enemy. We must be careful before we strike back."

Gyras, the most hotheaded of the theigns, raised an issue, "Are we going to increase the border defences?"

Ætharr nodded, "Yes. We share considerable borders with Vireo. I want increased protection across those lands immediately. Our people's safety comes first, even as we galvanize for attack. I want you all to raise the fyrd."

The theigns nodded. The fyrd comprised of all fit Calador weasels, not just the professional soldiers. Calador had always put an emphasis on war prowess, so even the farmers were able to use a weapon. In times of great danger and stress, the fyrd was often what decided the balance between victory and defeat.

Ætharr looked at his individual theigns, and placed a large map of the vermin lands onto the table. Weasels and otter crowded around and watched silently as Ætharr issued the orders, "I'm giving a number of theigns individual territories to control. Some of you must make arrangements to have your deputies or families manage your lands without you. Our defence lines are good, but who knows if they can sneak past across the lands.'

'Therefore, I want Horal to guard our furthermost border with Vireo, then I want this block next to him covered by Craterus, this area by Ulric, and this area by Burg." He emphasized each theigns name with a jab from his claw onto different parts of the border.

"Gyras,' Ætharr said, looking at the theign, 'I need to arrange for training and drills to prepare for a counteroffensive if one of our allies is invaded." Gyras, who had been surprised at being left out of the defences, accepted these new responsibilities without complaint.

Judos understood the judgment. Gyras was a fearsome fighter, but too eager for combat. Ætharr did not want to provoke combat too soon.

"The rest of you arrange for the fyrd to be raised across Calador. But I want them only to stand to attention. We are not going anywhere yet. They must be prepared to leave when they are called for."

Judos raised his paw, "Ealdor, what of the farmers and merchants?"

"They know what is expected. But that is a good point. Make sure that there are sufficient creatures left to manage the farms and towns. Most will have families capable of doing that without the fighters, of course," Ætharr replied.

The Ealdor looked around at his theigns, "I don't know what these creatures have planned now. They have the upper hand at this point in time, so we need to be on maximum alert. The Hunan and the Jeri and the Falcarragh are aware of this, and they are also standing ready. We aren't alone in this fight. Remember that."

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"How bad is it?" Rosheen asked when she saw her husband return from the meeting.

Ætharr told her what he had found out, and what he had planned. He only paused once, to send their daughter Nuala off to sleep. Nuala was also growing up fast, and it was clear that she was inheriting her mother's looks, with a preference for swordplay. Her parents were unsure if she had inherited more Falcarragh or Calador blood.

"I wish I had Jinn," Ætharr said sadly, "Since his murder, our spy network has been severely depleted. It will be very difficult to determine what the enemy do next." He looked at Rosheen, her eyes alive with worry.

"What do you need of me?" Rosheen asked.

Ætharr smiled. Rosheen had been one of his most important allies. She had not only helped raise their children, but she had often shown her ability to govern in Ætharr's stead. Her judgments were sound, and she constantly showed that she was the daughter of a powerful chief in her ability to assume authority.

"I need you to be with me as you always have. To be someone I can always rely on and love." Ætharr lovingly embraced Rosheen.

"I don't want our children to go wandering, Ætharr. They should stay here in the safety of Æthelly."

Ætharr nodded. Ideally the sons of the Ealdor should be preparing to accompany their father on war marches to prepare their minds to lead armies. However, Ætharr had no intentions of marching out to meet an enemy he knew so little about. It worried him that he knew so little, and he did not want to put his children at risk.

"I'll need to go look after the settlers to the east. They're the most vulnerable to Vireo attacks. I'll be gone for a week or two, then I'll come back to you."

"I know you will," Rosheen responded. She looked at Ætharr with a sudden direct look, "And if needed, I will fight with you to protect what we have."

Ætharr nodded and smiled at the comfort in her words. With a look of resignation, he turned and headed out to prepare for his journey.


	31. Chapter 31

30

Roaveen frowned as Brownhide bowed him into the tower where the King of the Vireo tribe lived.

Brownhide had admitted, in the flush of victory, that King Ibos had still been alive, and had faked his own death to take advantage of the neighbouring tribes. Their gamble had worked, allowing them to identify a spy ring led by one of the Ealdor's trusted friends.

Roaveen walked up to speak to this elusive king. He did not like being in such proximity with these vermin, but he knew that when their uselessness had run out, he would destroy them as they would destroy this vermin alliance that had apparently been building up over the course of many seasons. It was that upstart Calador leader, Ætharr. Roaveen was astonished that he had known so little about this weasel, but Brownhide had filled him in with enough information to know that Ætharr was widely feared and respected as the most powerful chieftain of any vermin clan in this area.

Well, Roaveen thought, he hasn't met the Badger Lord of Salamandastron.

Climbing the narrow stairs, brushing past the guards who stared up at the large badger in fear, Roaveen entered the throne room, where he saw a heavily robed ferret lounging on a throne as he ate a meal of some kind of roast bird.

Looking up, the ferret smiled and stood up, discarding his half-finished meal. Bobbing his head in a way that Roaveen couldn't distinguish whether it was respectful or not, the ferret spoke in a confidant tone, "Welcome, noble ally! I am King Ibos of Vireo!"

"Yes, I know who you are. You seem very eager to introduce yourself to me now after I've fought your battle for you." Roaveen replied scornfully. He was not going to treat this so-called king with any respect. He was a Badger Lord, and these vermin ought to show him any respect he demanded. Without him and his Mountain Regiment, there would have been no victory for the Vireo.

Ibos faltered at the tone, but smiled hurriedly to explain, "It was merely a precaution to hide myself in rumours of death. We had trouble with spies, and we wanted to uproot them before Calador and her allies found out about my faked death."

Roaveen saw logic in that, but merely nodded neutrally to show he understood, "So what now?"

Ibos paused again, "What do you mean?"

Roaveen smirked, "Well, we massacred a troop of Hunan and Jeri tribes, or whatever they're called. And since they're in an alliance with this Calador tribe, I doubt you'll be eager to fight all three at once. Unless it's you who's the secret mastermind of war that I haven't heard of."

Ibos tensed, and Roaveen could tell that he was growing impatient with Roaveen's barbs going his way. Roaveen didn't care. There was something about this ferret that disgusted Roaveen. Not just because he was a vermin, but also because he had clearly hung back through most of his military career. He relied on trickery and deception rather than outright proving of oneself, and this irritated Roaveen's warrior pride.

Of course, Ibos dared not make an enemy out of this badger, so he gave a calm reply, "Lord Roaveen, it can only be assumed that my tribe and your hares combined will leave the tribes utterly beaten and suing for peace."

Roaveen shrugged, "Aye, that's a good point." However, a sudden idea entered his head, even as he began to display a complacency to Ibos' response.

Ibos continued, emboldened by Roaveen's change of mood, "I have heard that Ætharr is galvanizing his borders for a massive defence strategy. However, it will take a few days for him to organize everything, so we have an opportunity, albeit brief, to make a devastating raid upon him before he has time to react.

Roaveen looked thoughtful, genuinely interested for the first time since meeting Ibos, "Go on."

Ibos obliged him, "Well, the capital of Calador is called Æthelly. It is a strong, heavily populated city and castle. To take it would require an open siege involving hundreds if not thousands. But if we play this game properly, we would be able to wipe out Ætharr and his family in one fell swoop. Without their best leader, the alliance will crumble, and Calador will fall into civil war."

Roaveen considered this idea, noting how this first explanation was vague enough to allow for many problems to arise. He decided to go with the most obvious one, "I heard from Brownhide that Ætharr has a cousin, a large weasel named Ædall. What if they just elect him to replace Ætharr?"

Ibos smiled, "The theigns are loyal, but I daresay some will be quite ambitious, and I'm of the belief that when an ambitious creature sees an opportunity, they take it."

Roaveen couldn't argue that point. It applied to him more than he'd have admitted to this ferret.

He considered Ibos' offer again, "We would need to make sure that we strike just when Ætharr is with his family. To do otherwise would be a wasted opportunity, and would only incense him to wipe you out."

Ibos nodded, oblivious to the fact that Roaveen had emphasized the 'you' rather than saying 'us'. Perhaps he hadn't realized just how blunt Roaveen was.

The ferret spoke again, "I will send Brownhide with a small group of soldiers to cross the border just before the defence operations begin in full earnest. They can wait, bide their time. I trust you can send a group of hares to accompany them?"

Roaveen paused. He did not want to leave hares stranded in Calador country for who knows how long. And if they were caught, they'd be slaughtered. He would prefer to keep his troops together so that he could act on the idea he was now festering in his head.

"Here's a better idea," Roaveen countered, "My hares would be out of place in a covert operation into vermin territory, and I doubt many would volunteer for such a job. So I shall lead assaults upon the Calador border to distract Ætharr. That way, your troops can enter Calador more easily."

Ibos nodded, glad to have Roaveen participating in any way, "Excellent idea, Lord Roaveen! We shall make arrangements for Brownhide to leave tomorrow. I trust your hares will be ready to fight?"

Roaveen smiled, suddenly realized that he might end up facing Ætharr himself in battle, "They'll be ready. I'll make sure of it."


	32. Chapter 32

31

Ætharr inspected the garrisons along the border of Calador and Vireo land. How cruelly ironic, he thought, that this land that had once been Millar land was now evenly split up between Calador and Vireo as a token of lasting alliance.

As he was meant to travel light, Ætharr had brought merely the smallest amount of guards. The ever-loyal, one-eyed marten Rojo had requested the honour to join Ætharr, and the Ealdor had also brought the hulking Lanvor as well as the raccoon mercenary, Ben.

He went to join Horal, who had always been one of his closest friends. Along with Jinn and Ædall, Horal had known him almost all his life and had remained loyal to him all this time. As the seasons had passed, Horal had added considerable girth to his already husky form, but his sword hand was as fast as ever, and his duelling skills were not to be underrated.

Ætharr and Horal began establishing new forts to reinforce the older ones, populating them with soldiers and fire-beacons in case of attack.

"This land isn't suited for sealing off, Ætharr." Horal remarked on the third day.

Ætharr was loath to agree, but it was true. This part of the land was dotted with small forests, and grass plains. There were a few hills, which had already been equipped with watchtowers, but it was not enough to keep an eye on every part of the border.

"We'll just have to do our best, Horal," Ætharr replied. He looked at the labourers as they were preparing the newest fort, "How many soldiers have you assembled so far?"

"Six hundred. All of them professional troops, and more than half of them were in the wars against Oorlog."

Ætharr smiled, "Yes, I've noticed many of them already. It's good to see some of these companions after having spent such little time with them over the last while."

Horal nodded slowly, and seemed ready to speak, but decided against it.

The two continued to survey the horizon for any enemies approaching. Thankfully there hadn't been much activity, though Ætharr knew that he would end up spending a bit more time out on the frontier before going home to his family. He owed it to his people to protect them, much as he resented being kept from Rosheen and his children.

At the end of the day, the two old friends took some time to rest and share a meal in the half-completed fort that they were overseeing.

"It feels like a lifetime ago that we travelled to King Nero's court." Horal remarked between mouthfuls of roast lizard and potatoes.

Ætharr nodded, "Aye. But who would have guessed that Ibos would turn out to be such a failure?"

Horal smirked, "He wasn't always bad. He just chafed under the leash you put him on."

Ætharr snorted, "He was a reckless youth who would have gotten himself killed for glory. And then I would have had to go back to Nero and let him chop my head off!"

Horal chuckled, "Aye well, that's life. I'm sure you'd be tempted to do the same to anyone who failed to look after your sons."

Ætharr felt a slight shudder at the thought of that situation happening, but he decided not to mention that to his friend. Instead, he thought of something else he could say.

"Have you found the time for children, Horal?"

Horal smiled and shook his head, "No. I haven't found anybody that suited me. Nor anyone whom I suited." He spoke lightly, but both weasels fell silent as they focused on their meals.

It occurred to Ætharr that he had not spent much time with Horal for a long time now, unless it was to speak to him concerning his responsibilities or the war. Their positions in Calador had left them distant after they had been so close. It had been the same with Jinn. Jinn had plunged into the murky world of espionage and intelligence finding. He had always been the craftiest and most calculating of them, but Ætharr had never lost any trust in him. It pained him still that Jinn was dead, but such was the way of these clans. Friends died, but life must move on.

Deciding to shift gears, Ætharr spoke up again, "I'll remain here for a few more days and then go to see Craterus."

Horal nodded, "Good. Any more word on what Ibos is planning?"

Ætharr shook his head, "No. And that's what bothers me about it. I don't know how involved the Badger Lord of Salamandastron is with this war, but if we have anybody to be wary of, it's him and his hares."

Horal smiled, "Well, we shall just have to face them in the shield wall when the time comes."

Ætharr nodded, "Aye."

Suddenly, a Calador soldier burst into the room, "My lords! Word from Craterus! He says that there is a large force assaulting his main fort and he is under siege!"

Ætharr jumped up, grabbing his axes which lay beside his chair, "It seems the time has come sooner than we thought, Horal! Arrange for two thirds of our forces to march out immediately! Horal, stay here and draw up reinforcements from the nearby fyrd to balance out your numbers. I'll send word to you on what's happening!"

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Ætharr hurried to close the gap between Horal and Craterus' area, pushing his four hundred troops to a tremendous pace.

Thankfully, they were mostly comprised of the veterans whom Ætharr had noticed in the garrison, and they were used to long marches from their time with Ætharr in the Jeri and Hunan lands.

The messenger filled them in as they went along. Craterus had begun re-fortifying the frontier as had been ordered, when a large force of Vireo troops and a good scattering of hares had approached, led by a massive badger whom seemed to be called Roaveen. He had ordered Craterus to surrender the fort to them, for the fort stood at a point which prevented entry into a nearby valley filled with settled Calador villages. With five hundred weasels scattered along the border, Craterus was holding the fort with a mere hundred and fifty of his troops. The rest of his force was stuck behind their own fortifications, fearing that Roaveen would assault each one if a weak spot occurred.

Ætharr hurried on to save Craterus and his troops. He wasn't sure how large Roaveen's army was, or how well it would fight, but he was not going to turn away from any fight.

Still, he was surprised by how the events of the past few weeks had played out. The idea that a Badger Lord of Salamandastron was leading vermin filled Ætharr with confusion at the world's madness. He hoped that he would be given the chance to face this Roaveen in battle. He had never fought a badger, and he wondered how well he would fare.

As they approached the land designated to Craterus to defend, Ætharr sent Ben, Lanvor, and a few scouts ahead to see how the Vireo forces were set up.  
Meanwhile, he lay his four hundred troops low while sending more scouts to scour the landscape for any members of the fyrd.

By nightfall of the second day since he'd left Horal, Ætharr received his first scouts as they all returned out of breath. Ben took the opportunity to be their spokesman.

Those sent to find Craterus gave dire news, "The Badger and his forces have dug trenches and are attempting to scale the fort walls with ladders! So far the Badger has not fought, nor have his hares, but their are providing long artillery that is beyond our range!"

"What news of Craterus?" Ætharr demanded. He hoped that the theign still lived, for Craterus was one of his ablest warriors.

"Craterus is still alive. But he's down to threescore fighters, so it seems. We were able to speak with a sentry in between attacks on the fort. Craterus pleads that you come to relieve his forces at once!"

Ætharr looked at his forces, "The other scouts should be here soon, we shall wait another hour for them. If they do not arrive, they shall have to find us when we battle Roaveen's forces!"

Thankfully, however, the remaining scouts returned within twenty minutes, but their news was not much more optimistic.

"The fyrd's been raised, but they're still assembling. We guess that they'll supply another two or three hundred troops, but it could take a good two hours before they arrive."

Ætharr sighed, "Very well. They'll have to meet us later. They know where to go, in any case." Turning to his forces, Ætharr raised an axe in the air, "To Craterus! And to battle!"

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As the red sun was being reduced to a sliver on the horizon, Ætharr led his troops forward, discarding all but a few torches.

"We shall hang back and cause disorder in their camp at first. Then we shall cut a path to Craterus and allow him a breathing space!" Ætharr had ordered.

The four hundred veterans crept forward, seeking to make as little noise as possible.

However, they had a distinct advantage in the form of Ben. The raccoon was a skilled fighter, and was also valuable in covert activities. He and Lanvor would sneak into the camp and cause a disturbance which would allow the Caladors a chance to get into position.

Rojo, who was the second-in-command of the force, crept alongside Ætharr. At one point, he smiled at his liege lord, "This reminds me of older times!"

Ætharr grinned in response, "Aye, but I remember it involved dressing up like skeletons!" He was, of course, referring to the trap laid by the allies at the Battle of Verfluchtes Land, where they had terrified the superstitious and savage Millar troops by wearing bones that had lain scattered across the desolate landscape.

Just as they were halfway down a wooded hill slope, they waited for a signal from Ben and Lanvor.

The two of them, meanwhile, were approaching the line of guards around the Vireo camp. Ben listened to the cavorting and feasting of the Vireo troops, noting that he did not see or hear any hares. Perhaps they were separating themselves from the vermin even as they fought with them?

He felt Lanvor's silent but imposing presence near him. Lanvor had been his partner on several occasions in the past, including the assassination of one of the Loptrio tribe leaders. However, Ben found little to like in Lanvor. The weasel was a fanatic in his loyalty to Ætharr and Calador, and he was overall very withdrawn and emotionless. Ben, for his part, admired and respected the Ealdor, but there was just little enjoyment being around this single-minded creature.

That said, Ben knew Lanvor's usefulness at times like this, and he gave a nod to the weasel as they set to split ways. They each knew what they were going to do, and they both knew how it would affect the ensuing confrontation between Ætharr and this enemy force.

Ben quietly crept past a group of guards, gripping his shillelagh tightly. He felt the grooves of the marks he'd made in the handle, wondering how many more notches he would have to put into the handle after this night.

The raccoon started moving through a maze of hastily assembled tents, all set up around the side of the fort. Ben could see faint glows from inside the fort, even as he flinched away from any sounds of nearby creatures.

He was going to light these tents on fire as much as he could without being detected. As the troops would face off against these fires, Ætharr would rush down and make his attack, cutting a bloody path to the fort with much-needed supplies.

Ben moved around, looking for some kind of oil that he could use to spread fire across these tents, which were damp from the previous day's rainfall. He knew Lanvor would be looking for it as well, and the agreement they had was that whenever one of them found it, and had lit tents on fire, they were to fight their way out and return to where Ætharr was waiting.

Ben prowled along, ducking numerous times to avoid a passing Vireo soldier. He was especially vulnerable at this point, for while Lanvor could pass for a Vireo, the raccoon had no such luck blending in.

Suddenly, a pair of unique voices entered Ben's ears, and he listened intently to the words being said.

"I tell ya, Sofa, these bally vermin give me the creeps. These are the ruddy beasts which we've been told are the enemy. Now we're helping them in their war against more vermin. I'm not one to say this about Lord Roaveen, but I don't understand what he's thinking!"

"Rest assured, Ormond, I'm inclined to believe that Lord Roaveen has an alternative strategy to whatever awaits these temporary companions of ours."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that I bally well think that the bally Badger Lord has a bally trick up his sleeve, but don't make me say it again, I don't want to be overheard..."

Ben smiled, for if he had not been on such high alert, he would have missed the conversation himself. He shrank into the shadows as the two hares walked by. So there was tension amongst these allies? Ætharr would be pleased to hear of it.

Ben only just finished that thought when he heard a scream of warning picking and being carried by multiple voices across the camp, "Fire! Fire! Fire!"


	33. Chapter 33

32

Roaveen had led his representatives of the Mountain Regiment, as well as about six hundred of the Vireo tribe's ablest troops, to assault the Calador frontier. He had no idea when Brownhide was supposed to reach Æthelly with his operatives, but while he never admitted this to his allies, the Badger Lord did not care whether Brownhide was successful or not.

The fort had held surprisingly well under the leadership of Craterus. Roaveen had been impressed by the weasel's refusal to surrender the fort, but had nevertheless initiated the beginnings of a siege. While Ibos had insisted that the greater value lay with Brownhide's attempts to murder Ætharr and his family, Roaveen had decided that he would not let his military campaign depend on such a wild attempt to turn the tide. He would sweep through Calador, destroying Ætharr and his people as he knew vermin would be defeated. As he ordered his vermin troops forward, Roaveen held back his hares, preferring that they provide artillery support rather than waste themselves in a minor battle.

However, after four days, the Calador garrison had somehow maintained defence of the fort. Assault after assault from the Vireo troops was repelled, which caused Roaveen much frustration with his forces. It had also allowed him to reach a few conclusions that he hadn't given much thought to before.

In truth, he had grown tired of these Vireo vermin, for he began to see more and more clearly that they were doomed against the Calador forces. The only way to stem the flow would be if the hares of Salamandastron marched out to scour the landscape, but Roaveen had no interest in trying to persuade his hares to do so in defence of vermin. His younger brother, Korari, would object, as would the remnants of the Long Patrol. Roaveen had no interest in providing fodder for their accusations, so he decided to keep them in the dark as much as possible.

Roaveen had also decided that the Caladors were playing their cards incredibly safe, in this defensive formation. After the slaughter of the Jeri and Hunan forces, the allied clans had all fortified their frontiers with Vireo. Ibos was leading assaults on the Jeri and Hunan to keep them on their toes, but Roaveen knew that they would hold him back. Roaveen had no faith in Ibos as a military commander. And he was beginning to lose all faith in their tribe as a whole.

The problem was that he had come so far that anything short of victory would reflect badly upon him. If there remained the slightest chance that Brownhide was successful, it meant that Roaveen could take the credit for the victory of Ætharr's death. Had it not been he who had come up with the diversionary tactic? Surely Ibos and Brownhide would not dare challenge him for fear of his wrath? Roaveen knew that he had to hold out, and call for more reinforcements, including more of his Mountain Regiment when the time came.

His loyal officers, Sophus and Ormond, had also seemed out of place within this war. Many of the hares were uncomfortable at this strategy Roaveen was carrying out. None dared to mention it to his face, though Roaveen knew that when they gathered together at night or at meals, the consensus began to spread.

On the fourth day of the siege, Roaveen held a counsel of war with Sophus and Ormond, deliberately ignoring the vermin captains in his host.

"If we continue at this rate, I'm sorry to say that Craterus will devastate our numbers, m'lord!" Sophus stated, having calculated the losses of Vireo for every Calador warrior they seemed to have killed.

"They're probably down to their last few forces, Sofa! We can take them and bally well drive 'em out if we lead a joint assault, wot!" Ormond replied.

Roaveen noted that comment well. He knew that there were mutterings in the vermin ranks on why the hares were not fighting with them, or why Roaveen was not leading the charge.

He spoke up, even as the two hares obediently turned to him, "It has come to my attention that reinforcements are on their way."

"Caladors, m'lord?" Sophus asked.

"Yes, Captain. Calador troops."

Ormond, his one good eye moving from his friend to his liege lord, looked confused, "When was this information acquired, m'lord?"

"There was word from the Vireos that one of the Calador soldiers escaped the fort during the battle."

Sophus cursed under his breath, "That means Ætharr could be on his bally way to engage our forces in combat! Our plan of secrecy has failed, no thanks to those Vireo blaggards!"

Ormond sighed, "So what do you we do now, m'lord?"

Roaveen sat back, "I say we shall engage the reinforcements in combat. And we shall lead the attack. We have been unblooded and held in reserve for precisely such an occasion. Spread the word amongst the vermin troops, hold off any attacks on the fort, and maintain vigilance."

The hares, knowing that this was their dismissal, nodded respectfully and headed out.

Roaveen sighed, and poured himself a cup of blackberry grog. It was, regrettably, the best kind of drink that these vermin had to offer, but Roaveen would stomach it for now.

He had finished his fourth cup when he heard the call for fire.

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Ben ducked as a score of vermin rushed past him. He gripped his shillelagh and sighed. Lanvor had beaten him to it. Fine, so now was the time for him to return to Ætharr and signal the attack. Lanvor would continue his acts of sabotage and hold off any resistance he met.

Hurrying back the way he came, the raccoon stopped and started several times as vermin rushed past him to the direction of the fires. Only once did a Vireo bump into him, and the last sound that ferret heard was the whistling of the shillelagh which crushed his neck.

Moving past the slain Vireo ferret, Ben moved towards the treeline, knowing that Ætharr and Rojo were waiting to lead the counter-assault.

"Oy! You!"

Ben, ignoring the call, ran faster as the soldier who had seen him began shouting for attention. Ben pushed past the final line of tents, ignoring any calls of confusion from the guards.

Throwing back his head, Ben yelled out to the hidden Calador forces, "ATTACK! ATTACK!"

A sudden pain surged through the raccoon's shoulder as he felt a throwing knife sink deep into his flesh.

Turning around, Ben snarled savagely, his hackles rising. Four guards were rushing towards him, all carrying spears and cutlasses. Put off for a moment by Ben's fearsome display, they faltered in their charge.

It was all Ben needed. Rushing forward, still snarling, Ben swung his shillelagh with his good limb, the weapon breaking two spears that menaced him. Dodging to the right, Ben sunk his sharp teeth into the nearest guard's neck while using the rest of him as a living shield. Ignoring the guard's shriek of agony, Ben bit harder when further shockwaves of pain moved from his wounded shoulder.

One of the other guards, thinking more quickly than his companions, thrust forward with his spear, ignoring the fact that he impaled his own mate as a result. Ben hissed as the spear point went through the guard and grazed the raccoon's side. Releasing his jaws from the dying guard's neck, Ben attempted to back away, holding his shillelagh ready to block any other attacks.

Dropping his now-useless spear, the leading guard charged forward, slashing downwards with his cutlass in a cackle of triumph. His initial attack was not even finished when a throwing axe from Ætharr buried itself in his chest.

The two remaining guards turned, in horror, to see the Calador reinforcements emerge from the forest. One began to scream, but was beheaded by a swing of Ætharr's axe. The other turned to flee, but wailed out in pain as Rojo swung his mace and chain into the guard's back.

Growling as Calador warriors ran past him, Ben leaned on his shillelagh for support. He knew that the dagger wound would keep him out of action for a good season if he wasn't careful. He would have to go and get some medical assistance.

A young Calador weasel, running out from the fort, suddenly stopped next to him, "Are you alright?"

Ben nodded, "Can you help me find a medic?"

The weasel turned and called to the nearby fort, "Help! Wounded soldier here!" Turning back to the raccoon, the weasel moved to support him as they waited.

"The healers were heading over to the fort to help Craterus, so you'll need to go there. Do you need any help getting there?"

Ben smiled, "Thank you. Thank you kindly. What's your name?"

"Antigonus, son of Agricola," the weasel answered.

Ben paused, "I know you. You were in Judos' classes. You were one of the older ones he was teaching."

Antigonus nodded proudly, "Aye. But now that I'm of fighting age they sent me to learn war under Craterus's guidance. I've been helping him hold the fort against our enemies!" The raccoon noticed how Antigonus had a fearsome-looking scar over his eye, which was still in the process of healing.

Ben clapped the young weasel on the shoulder with his good paw, "Well, Antigonus, my name is Benjamin, and from now on, consider me a friend. I hope I'm able to pay you back for your kindness one day."

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Roaveen hurried out of his tent, seeing that a number of tents had caught fire. No, he thought. It had rained the day before, how could these tents catch fire?

It must have been an act of sabotage, the badger thought, as he grabbed his sword and hurried towards the burning tents.

Suddenly, Sophus and Ormond appeared next to him, "M'lord! Do you think it was intentional?" They had clearly come to the same conclusion as Roaveen had done.

The Badger Lord, still running, issued quick orders, "Find something to douse those fires, and assemble the Mountain Regiment into a fighting unit. This might be a diversion!"

As his two Captain split off from him, Roaveen stopped as he approached the nearest tent that was on fire. A number of Vireo troops had already begun taking down nearby tents to protect them from the fire, but Roaveen was not interested in the tents. If this was an act of sabotage, where were the saboteurs?

Roaveen looked around into the darkness, wondering if he was being watched by some unseen assailant. Holding his stance ready, Roaveen moved away from the others, peering into the shadows.

Something suddenly moved out of the corner of his eye. Whipping around, Roaveen held his sword ready and growled his challenge. The light of the fire cast many flickering shadows upon his vision, and he could no longer see anything resembling another animal.

Suddenly, from his right, there was a snarl, and Roaveen was knocked onto his side, his sword dropping from his grip. Someone had slammed into him, but Roaveen had been ready for a sudden attack and in a twisting movement, the badger flung his attacker away from him. However, the attacker had a weapon, and even Roaveen's fast reflexes were unable to save him from being slashed along his side.

Quickly grabbing his sword, Roaveen felt his wound. It was not deep, he had been very lucky. But he would have to thank his stars later, for the attacker- which he could see was a very large weasel- rushed forward and swung at him with a single-bladed battleaxe.

Baring his teeth, Roaveen felt the Bloodwrath rise in him as he ducked the weasel's attack and lunged forward with his sword. The weasel deflected the sword thrust with his axe handle, and rammed the top of his axe against Roaveen's jaw.

Feeling sudden pain where the weapon made contact, Roaveen roared in anger as he swung a fist straight for the weasel's head. Gasping in pain, the weasel fell backward, only just recovering his posture in time to swing his axe again.

Roaveen, now fully possessed by the Bloodwrath, roared again as he rushed forward. Ignoring the axe as it slashed his arm, the badger swung with his sword straight at the weasel's midriff. The weasel dodged, but not fast enough. The sword blade bit deep into the weasel, causing blood to spill down his leg.

Seemingly undeterred, the weasel knocked the sword away and dropped his axe. Drawing a dagger from his waist, the weasel screamed a death cry as he leaped forward.

The dagger plunged itself in Roaveen's forearm, even as he raised his limb to deflect the blow. Dropping his sword from his other paw, Roaveen grabbed the weasel in midair by the throat. Before the weasel could react, Roaveen spun around and flung him as hard as he could towards the burning tents. By this point, a group of Vireos had crowded near the two fighters, and they recoiled in shock at Roaveen's sudden move.

The weasel flew over their heads, and fell with a scream of agony into the heart of the flames of one tent. Growling in satisfaction, Roaveen noted that the weasel had lit the tents on fire with oil or something along those lines. As a result, the fire spread onto the weasel's body as he came into contact with the tent material he had coated in flammable oil.

The weasel thrashed and shrieked as he burned with the tent. The Vireos made a move as if to finish him off, but Roaveen roared out, "Leave him! Let him die slowly!"

Suddenly, Sophus and Ormond ran forward, "M'lord! We're under attack! Ætharr himself is here!"

The Vireos cried out in surprise, and scattered to assemble their comrades.

Roaveen stood, shocked by the turn of events. Ætharr was here? Brownhide's plans would fail, and now Roaveen was left to face the might of the Ealdor.

No matter, the badger thought. There may be a way to stave off defeat.

Throwing back his head, Roaveen yelled out, "TO ME! TO ME! ALL FIGHTERS TO ME!"

Hares and vermin alike heard the call and began to rush to their Badger Lord. Behind them were the advancing Calador troops, led by the fearsome figure of Ætharr, swinging his long axe and his hand axe against the slower Vireo troops.

Ætharr felt no qualms about killing these troops. Even if there were former comrades amongst these forces, he would not spare them. They would have killed Craterus and the people he was defending. No mercy on the battlefield while the battle was being fought.

He too, heard the call rallying these forces together. Ætharr smiled as he turned to Rojo, "Form a shield wall and move to stand by the fort's entrance. We will let them try and approach us."

Rojo nodded and began yelling orders. The Calador forces began moving in a rearguard fashion, closing up their ranks with an overlapping shield wall. This was the time-honoured battle formation that the Caladors had adopted, and it had served them well in countless battles. This was why the Caladors were the most feared warriors of the vermin clans.

Ætharr felt a great joy in him as he slung his longer-handled axe, taking a proffered shield instead. Holding his shorter hand axe ready, the Ealdor linked his shield with Rojo on his right. He could not deny that he was a born warrior, and while he had promised to hold back on war to spend time with his family and protect the developments of his country, he knew where he felt the most alive.

Roaveen, meanwhile, had rallied his forces together. They had endured considerable losses, and the sudden presence of Ætharr himself had filled the Vireo troops with demoralization. Roaveen, disgusted by this, knew that he had to draw back.

However, an idea had formed in his mind which could allow for something to come out of this victory.

He looked at the vermin captains, Sophus, and Ormond, "Prepare a march back to the capital. We shall regroup and strike them again when we are better prepared."

"Retreat, sah?" Ormond asked, shocked at this revelation.

Roaveen nodded, "Temporary. But first I'm going to give Ætharr a nasty surprise of his own." He smiled, "We'll capitalize on his distraction at a later date."

Ormond nodded slowly, still not quite understanding. Roaveen did not care.

The badger plodded over to where he saw the Calador army lined up and ready to fight. As he drew nearer, he called out, "Who among you is Ætharr?"

There was a pause, until one of the larger weasels in the front line stepped forward, "I am Ætharr, Ealdor of Calador. You must be Roaveen, the Badger Lord of Salamandastron."

Roaveen nodded, "Aye. Allow me to congratulate you on a stolen victory."

A hush fell amongst the Calador soldiers. Their honour had been greatly insulted, and they waited for Ætharr's reply.

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Ætharr smiled coldly at the large badger's comment. He knew that there was a time to lose yourself to anger and rage, and now was certainly not one of those times.

He inclined his head mockingly, "That, coming from a puppet warlord who would slaughter villages is very complimentary."

Some of the Calador soldiers growled in approval at their leader's quick wit.

The large badger's eyes narrowed, "When you and I meet again, you'll find that I'm no puppet warlord, weasel. I shall teach you the fate that your betters have faced when they fight those of Salamandastron."

Ætharr gestured towards the departing forces of Roaveen, "You are out of your element, badger. Salamandastron stands tall, but this is not Salamandastron. This is Calador, and we shall fight to the death to protect what is ours. I advise you to choose your battles more wisely."

Roaveen smiled coldly, "Well said, Ætharr. But allow me to return you the compliment." He gestured to the horizon, "You are also out of your element. You are better needed at home, with your family."

Though Ætharr made no movement to react, he felt himself go cold inside. What did Roaveen mean? Ætharr knew that Roaveen wanted him to ask about that cryptic phrase, and his pride refused him to fall into Roaveen's game.

Instead, the weasel nodded, "I shall look forward to seeing them again now that I have ended the threat at my borders."

Roaveen merely continued to smile, "For now, Ealdor. For now." With that, he turned and followed his army as they headed back into Vireo territory.

Rojo approached Ætharr's side and whispered, "Shall we return to Æthelly?"

The Ealdor said nothing, for he no longer trusted his emotions to remain neutral. Something was threatening Rosheen and the children. He had to go and look after them before it was too late.


	34. Chapter 34

33

Brownhide and his troops had infiltrated Calador, as was decided by Ibos and Roaveen. Even as Ætharr had left to arrange the reinforced defences of the border, the small group of Vireos took their chance and made it through. By the time Roaveen had attacked Craterus, Brownhide was peering through the trees at the walled city of Æthelly. He wasn't sure if Ætharr was still there, but he knew that even if he wasn't, his family would be there. What was required now was patience.

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Judos had decided to stay Æthelly, in light of Rosheen and Ætharr's concerns for their children. There was an unsettling feeling of uncertainty in these times. Ætharr had issued orders to prepare defences, and Judos had already made arrangements for the fyrd to be raised in his territory.

Now he was bivouacked in a house in the capital thanks to Rosheen's influence. He shared the house with several other troops who had been brought in for security purposes. This was not out of inconvenience, for Judos would certainly have been able to have a place to himself if he'd insisted, but theigns were encouraged to share certain burdens with their troops. The argument long accepted in Calador was that the theigns would be able to better relate to their troops, and vice versa. This was all fine and well to Judos, but because he didn't know them very well, he preferred to spend his days with Rosheen and the children.

"How goes it with Ætharr?" Judos asked Rosheen the day after he settled into the fortified town.

"He's worried about Ibos and his new allegiance with Salamandastron," Rosheen replied. In the other room, Nuala was playing with a few friends, while her brother Ædelmær sat nearby, reading. Their older brothers were sparring with training weapons outside.

Judos glanced over at Ædelmær, "How are they doing in the middle of all this trouble?"

Rosheen gave a small smile, "They hardly notice. Ætharr didn't want them to be worrying."

Judos nodded, "But they know about the dangers, surely?"

"Aye, but children will be children."

Judos looked puzzled, "What do you mean? Are they giving you trouble about it?"

Rosheen paused, "The boys want to fight with their father. They want to prove themselves in battle."

Judos sighed, "They certainly would." They had certainly been well trained, but Judos couldn't help but notice their youth and want them to stay home. Of course, such would normally be the case, but in a time of war, Judos knew, they would be fighting on the front.

"I suppose there's no word from spies within Vireo?" Judos asked.

"Ever since Jinn died, his spy networks just aren't the same anymore, so he doesn't know what they're up to," Rosheen replied.

Judos sighed, "Well, I'm not too fussed about Jinn, to be honest. I think he thrived on the paranoia that existed amongst the tribes' rivalry. And there were rumours that he spied on every citizen in Calador as insurance."

Rosheen shook her head, "No, Ætharr would not have allowed that."

Ætharr likely would not have known, Judos thought to himself, but he did not say as much. He wanted to change the subject to something more pleasant.

The two of them would frequently have conversations as the days went on. They had always been friendly over their time in Calador. Both had been strangers in this land, and they could relate to being different amongst these Calador weasels. Of course, Judos felt, Rosheen had had a far easier time adapting to this life than he had. She was, of course, a weasel, but also from another vermin tribe. War was something Rosheen had known all her life, for if the time came, she too would fight, even as she'd fought alongside Ætharr at Brocovar.

Judos spent a lot of time thinking of the past, as of late. How had he come so far as he had? How did he get from Redwall to here? It was stunning. Everything had started when he'd met Ætharr and Rosheen.

It had been a long time since the two of them had, along with Ætharr and Iola, crossed a pike-infested lake in a small boat. To Judos, it was almost as if it had happened to him in another lifetime.

But the odd thing was that he could not call that coincidence. He had had visions of Ætharr before he'd even met him. Judos had always assumed that Martin the Warrior had sent him those visions, but why? Why would Martin want Judos to flee Redwall with his old Sword and use it in vermin wars?

All this wondering had to be put to the side, one day, when there came word from nearby that a raiding party had struck within Calador.

A weasel had come up to Æthelly, demanding entrance. There had been a raid upon a nearby village and there were many dead and wounded.

Judos and Rosheen, being the highest ranked figures in Æthelly, listened to the weasel's pleas.

"There were about thirty of 'em! They took us by surprise and began burning the houses before dawn! A number of us hid away so they didn't get killed or wounded, and when they left, we came out of hiding to help. They were still counting bodies when I left! We need aid!"

"What were they after?" Judos asked. He knew that anyone would immediately hurry out to help, but something seemed odd about this situation. The village had been small (Judos had been there before) and of very little worth to anyone but a few farmers.

"How should I know?" The weasel yelled out indignantly, "They burned down everything!"

Rosheen looked at Judos, "We need to help those people that survived. Let them come here so we can give them shelter."

Judos nodded, but then turned back to the weasel before them, "Do you have an idea of how many are still alive?"

"Only about a dozen or so, mostly children who were hidden away by their parents!"

Judos sighed bitterly. It was very likely that those children were now orphans.

He knew that regardless of what the cause of the raid was, aid needed to be sent out. He looked at the weasel again, "Are you sure they've gone? Do you have any idea what they planned to do next?"

The weasel stared incredulously, and then shrugged, "I dunno, Theign Judos. But wid all due respect, time is a damn factor!"

Rosheen put up a conciliatory paw, "We do not wish to endanger the lives of Caladors. Where is the village?"

"Two hours from here as the weasel runs. And I HAVE been running!"

Rosheen looked at Judos, "How many?"

Judos thought about it. He didn't want to leave Æthelly unguarded, but in case there was an ambush, he needed forces at his back.

"I'll take forty soldiers with me, and two carts of supplies." Judos did not add that the carts would also be useful for the wounded and the dead.

Rosheen nodded, "We'll get to work on that immediately."

Judos hurried out of the main hall to get his armour and sword. On the way, he bumped into Ætharr's oldest son, Ædron.

"I want to come, too, Uncle Judos! I want to help find those raiders!" The young weasel stated.

Judos shook his head, "We're only going to provide help to those creatures at the village. We're not looking for war."

Ædron looked disappointed, and spoke out again, "But if we don't catch those who did it, they'll go on to strike somewhere else!"

Judos nodded, "Yes, but we don't have the troops for that right now. We need to help those victims first. A ruler such as your father looks after his subjects first before pursuing war."

Ædron paused, thinking that over, and Judos could tell that he had embarrassed him with the lecture. A pang of regret went through the otter; he hadn't wanted to antagonize Ædron, but at the same time, he could tell that Ædron had the brash pride and wilfulness of youth. A reminder of that would surely help him to lose those qualities.

Ædron looked up again, "Well, then can I at least come help with those who I'll rule after my father?"

Judos thought about it, but decided against it. It was not his decision to make. If Ætharr and Rosheen wanted that, they could tell him, but Judos was not going to risk Ædron's life over something like this.

He shook his head, "No, Ædron, it's dangerous, and I do not have the authority to allow this. Your parents want to keep you safe for the time being."

"But we're just going to help that village!" Ædron pointed out resentfully. Judos suddenly realized that Ædron was far more shrewd than he had first perceived.

"In case it's a trap, I want you here, in Æthelly." Judos stated firmly, wishing to end this argument.

"I can fight! I learned how to take care of myself! I can prove it, too!" Ædron protested, though Judos thought it sounded more like a child's whining.

Frustrated at this pointless delay, Judos replied without thinking, "I'm sorry, Ædron, but in my opinion, you need some time yet before you're ready to become Ealdor."

Ædron's eyes widened, remembering his failed attempt to slay an adder. Judos had saved him that day from being killed, and he had had to admit that he had failed. The reference, Judos realized, was filling him with anger, and Judos wondered what Ædron would do.

After another pause, the young weasel turned his back and walked away without any attempt at respect to his guardian. Judos could understand why, but he was also glad that he could now go and help those in need. Ædron would have to wait.

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Judos and the soldiers headed out, guided by the lone survivor of the village. The going was slow, due to the two carts of supplies brought to aid those still living, but what made Judos worry was the fact that this made them more vulnerable to attack.

Ædron's words about the raiding party still being at large had remained in Judos' mind as he trudged along. He could tell that this knowledge also left the thirty soldiers on edge. Alertness was high amongst the group, for they would be in a bad situation if they were suddenly attacked.

The guide had been busy sheltering his two children, supposedly, and had thus a very limited idea of what had happened. Judos questioned him as they went along and gathered that the raiders had seemed solely intent on destroying the village.

"They didn't go for food or prisoners?" Judos asked.

The weasel shook his head, "Not that I noticed. Our belongings were in the houses, and they burned them down without discretion."

Judos thought that was a bit strange. It was natural for war parties to destroy in order to instill fear, and certainly that message would be better sent if the location did not matter. But it was nevertheless a huge risk for anyone to come this far from the border just to leave messages. With Ætharr's defences being built, it would be even more difficult. Surely a war party would seek to do something greater than just attack a solitary helpless village.

The more Judos thought about it, the more he did not like it. He considered the other options. Was it a distraction? Was it a trap? He didn't bring this up with the survivor of the village; he couldn't quite be trusted for reliable information. And he was definitely a Calador weasel, so Judos doubted that he was betraying them. All the same, he had to make sure.

"Stop."

The survivor, as well as the soldiers, looked puzzled, but obeyed Judos' command. They were about twenty minutes from Æthelly, passing through the forests to be found just outside the city.

"What is it, Theign Judos?" one of the troops asked.

Judos looked at the survivor, "Do you swear that everything you told us is true?"

The survivor blinked in surprise but responded quickly, "Of course!"

Ignoring the surprised reactions of his soldiers, Judos drew his sword, and pointed it at the weasel, "Swear to me on your life, your entrance to the Great Hall, and on the lives of your children, that you are not leading us into a trap.

The survivor's eyes widened with horror at the sight of the sword pointed at him, and he held up his paws in surrender, "I swear upon them all! I swear!"

Judos lowered his sword, nodding in relief, "But now that leaves one to wonder what this means."

"What are you talking about, Theign Judos?" An older soldier asked.

"I'm thinking that this was either a trap, or it was a diversion. Why else would your village be attacked?"

The survivor frowned, "I don't know, really. They didn't stay long after everything was burned down."

"Did anyone say anything? Think back."

The survivor paused, his face screwed in concentration as he tried to recall the confusion and terror of that raid, "Er... Well there were a couple of vermin not far from where we were hiding... One said something but I'm not quite sure what they said."

Judos stepped forward, "Any idea?"

"Well," the survivor said, "I think one said something like it's been done or something. I just figured they were talking about one of the huts being burned."

Judos frowned, "What if it was just a distraction leading us away from Æthelly?"

"Maybe, but we've still got to help my village!" The survivor said hotly.

Judos nodded, "Of course, but I once swore a sacred oath to Ætharr that I would look after his children with my life. I need to go back and look after them." He turned to look at the second-in-command of the troops, "Lavaine, you command this convoy, I'm going to go back and make sure nothing happens at Æthelly."

Turning around, he began hurrying back to Æthelly. Suddenly, he stopped. He had heard something in the bushes nearby. Turning back to Lavaine, Judos noted that he hadn't hallucinated that sound. The others had grabbed their weapons in anticipation.

Suddenly, Judos lunged to the right, intent on flushing out who was hiding in the foliage and shrubbery. With a cry of surprise, two figures leaped away from Judos, running right into the group of Calador soldiers. Lavaine raised his axe to strike, but then stopped himself in shock.

It was Ædron and Lorcan. Judos stared in shock as Ætharr's two eldest sons awkwardly stood up from where they had fallen. The other Calador soldiers looked at each other with confusion and surprise written all over their faces.

Anger welled up in Judos, and he stood before them both, "What is the meaning of this?!"

Lorcan, who was not quite as tall as Judos yet, looked down in shame, but his brother, older but shorter, continued to look up at Judos, "We're old enough to fight! And we're the sons of the Ealdor! We don't want to hide like cowards!"

Judos sighed in his frustration, "Ædron, you have a long way to go yet. There's a difference between cowardice and common sense!"

He rounded on Lorcan, "And you! I'm surprised at you, Lorcan! You would disobey your parents _and_ your guardian?"

Lorcan, shrugged, "Someone had to look after him. I'm his brother."

"I don't need any protecting!" Ædron objected, glaring at Lorcan and then back at Judos, "I want to control my own decisions!"

Judos had heard that comment before. He had heard Mellor once say that to Abbott Varrus and Skipper of Otters when they had been caught trying to escape Redwall. He had been the runaway then. Now he was the one in authority. The realization that he had come so far in his life shook Judos to the core. He didn't know what to say for a moment. The two sons of Ætharr, the soldiers, and the survivor from the camp all looked at the otter, wondering what he was going to say.

Finally Judos spoke, "Why isn't Ædelmær here with you?"

Lorcan shrugged, "We didn't tell him we were going. He wouldn't have disobeyed anyway."

Judos nodded slowly, and then looked at Lavaine, "Be on your way. I'll take these two home with me."

Lavaine nodded, and the troops moved on, leaving Judos with the two youths.


	35. Chapter 35

34

Ædron and Lorcan walked with Judos in silence. The three of them were heading back to Æthelly, their senses alert to any signs of a raiding party.

It suddenly occurred to Judos that neither youth was carrying a weapon. Contempt suddenly built up in Judos at the carelessness of these two, but it went away when he remembered that he had once been so stupid and young.

"You didn't think to bring any weapons?" He asked.

Ædron, frowning, said nothing, but Lorcan looked at him, "We tried, but that would have caused too much suspicion. It was enough that we managed to escape without Mother knowing."

Judos sighed, "Rosheen will be very worried by now..."

Lorcan looked shame-faced and turned away. Ædron's expression hadn't changed from its resentful anger. The walk back was dominated by awkward silence for the next while.

Judos looked at Ædron. This young weasel had a lot to prove, and he was scared of falling short of the mark his father had established. Judos sighed. Ætharr was a natural born leader, and had proven himself by trials of blood and thunder. Rosheen was the daughter of a long tradition of Falcarragh chiefs, having fought alongside Ætharr on several accounts. How could anyone compete with their legacy? Ædron, Lorcan, Ædelmær, and Nuala would all live in the shadow of their father in Calador, and the boys would especially be pressured to be worthy successors. Judos had always worried the most about Ædelmær, as he had had to work very hard to match his brothers in physical prowess, and he had had low opinions of himself. He had also seemed the most openly concerned with his parents' approval. But Judos had always known that Ædelmær was very clever, and more compassionate than his eldest brother. Ædron lacked the charisma that his father had used to forge an alliance of the vermin tribes, drive his armies across the Ridge of the Dead, and smash the forces of Oorlog, Ælfer, Cecilio, and others. Judos hoped that Ædron would learn this over time, because at this point, he could not see Ædron as the Ealdor of Calador.

Even as Judos thought this in his mind, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He stared in horror at a cloud of smoke in the near distance. There was only one place from which such a large cloud of smoke could originate.

Ædron and Lorcan saw it too, and for a moment, all three animals were immobilized by shock.

Judos reacted first. Drawing his sword, he rushed forward, "Come on!"

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Judos, Ædron, and Lorcan arrived upon a site of battle that Judos had not seen since the raid on Viggo's hall. Behind the wall, the large town of Æthelly was in flames. The large gate to the town was open, and Judos could see distraught civilians fleeing with their paws gripping family members or personal belongings. The shouts of battle and clash of weapons was also evident amongst the horrid sounds.

Judos felt his blood run cold even as he continued running forward. They had been ambushed. The raid on the village had been a distraction after all, and the enemy had known that nobody could ignore wounded villagers. So when the garrison had been weakened, they had seized their chance.

Turning to his two young companions, who were still without weapons, Judos roared, "Stay close!" For once, Ædron obeyed without question.

As they entered the town through the gate, they saw that only a small fraction of the houses were actually burning. But the chaos was threatening to engulf everything, leaving the fire neglected. This was no cohesive battle, it was a mess. A group of soldiers would appear and then disappear in between the houses and buildings and smoke. Judos had no idea where the fight began and ended.

He decided that there was only one sensible thing to do. Turning to Lorcan and Ædron, he yelled, "To the Hall!"

Both youths, seeing their first battle, were bereft of any emotion except fear. Judos had seen this many times before, and he knew that they needed someone to tell them what to do or else they would be killed. Judos was filled with sudden fear that they would be targeted by these raiders as sons of the Ealdor.

Hurrying them along, Judos noticed several bodies along the way. He picked up an axe and a sword, giving them to the youths under his watch. Both were trained in weapons, but now that they might need to fight after all, it was another matter.

They ran forward, trying to reach the Hall as a point of safety. As they ran, they heard a shout from nearby, "It's the otter! After 'im!"

Judos cursed, "Come on! And don't call each other's names out, these vermin are here to kill you more than anyone else!"

Even as he said this, two rats and a ferret leaped out in front of them, yelling, "We got these 'uns!"

Judos pushed the two sons of Ætharr out of the way, "Stand back!"

The three vermin rushed Judos, yelling battle cries. Ducking a spear and dodging a sabre swing, Judos parried the ferret's club with his sword. Swinging his heavy tail, Judos knocked a rat to the ground, even as he struck the ferret with a punch. However, the second rat slashed his forepaw with the sabre, even as Judos roared in pain and ran the offender through with his sword.

Just as the ferret was about to beat Judos over the head with his cudgel, a sudden scream sounded as Lorcan rushed forward and nearly beheaded the ferret.  
The remaining rat had gotten to his feet and was about to run away when Ædron stabbed him in the gut with his sword. The rat shrieked and tried to grapple with the young weasel, but Ædron knocked him onto his back, staring in shock at his first kill.

Judos didn't know what to say. Both were shaken, but unhurt. He clapped them both on the shoulder, "Thank you, boys. Your father would be proud."

A sudden scream ripped through the air. It was female, and it came from the direction of the Hall.

Judos felt another bolt of fear electrify his body, "Come on! Hurry!"

Despite his wound, Judos was able to keep up with the younger weasels. They reached the Hall, only to see that the raiders had tried to set the building on fire, but without success. It was also an area where the fight was fiercest, as could be seen by the many bodies lying around the base of the building. Judos noted that the majority of the bodies were Calador weasels.

Near the entrance of the Hall stood Rosheen. Wounded in a half dozen places on her body, she was nevertheless fighting fiercely while keening her own war cry. Engaging two vermin trying to enter, Rosheen wielded two short swords with all the savage ferocity that a mother would have while defending her children.

Seeing their mother beset by enemies, Lorcan and Ædron yelled in anger and charged forward, surprising the two vermin with their attack. Rosheen looked shocked to see them, embracing both with a sob of relief.

Judos hurried up, "What happened?!"

Rosheen looked at him, "They scaled the wall and broke the gate! I don't know how many there are but there can't be more than sixty! They took us by surprise and slew many before we could respond!"

Judos looked at the bleeding gash on her face, "You're wounded, it might..."

"Judos, don't you dare tell me to stay back when foes threaten my home!" Rosheen responded angrily. Judos nodded silently, embarrassed.

"Where are Ædelmær and Nuala?" Lorcan asked.

"Ædelmær is inside, he was fighting and got wounded, while Nuala gathered as many civilians and wounded as she could inside here, we've been defending them as long as we could," Rosheen responded. She looked at her two eldest sons with sudden anger, "What happened to you two? Where were you?"

"They came to warn me of what was happening," Judos suddenly answered, much to the surprise of the others. "They also saved my life earlier."

Rosheen looked at both her children with admiration, who quickly went along with what Judos was saying.

Nuala suddenly rushed out of the Hall, carrying a Healer's kit, "Ædelmær is fine, we've been able to stop the bleeding. He's saying that he wants to help, I can't persuade him to..."

Even as she said this, Ædelmær emerged, carrying an axe and a throwing hatchet. He was limping, with bandages covering one of his legs, "I can fight!" Seeing his brothers and Judos, he stared in astonishment.

Judos looked at him with concern, "How serious is that wound?"

"A fox tried to kill me when I was stopping a ferret from slaying two children," Ædelmær responded, "I noticed just long enough to dodge, but he stabbed my leg. Nuala was there, she took his eye clean out with her sling."

Judos stood there, hearing all this, surrounded by Ætharr and Rosheen's children, and he couldn't help but be impressed at how much they all took after their parents.

Suddenly, another group of foes charged forward, screaming out a signal that Ætharr's family was here.

Snarling, Judos and Rosheen stepped forward, only to be joined by the four children, Nuala having picked up a discarded spear. Other Calador soldiers were running up as well, rallying around the Hall. Many also brought civilians and wounded in tow, and these were shepherded into the Hall.

Meanwhile, Judos and Rosheen gathered a number of Calador troops and they advanced against the group of raiders. It was suddenly seen that Brownhide was one of the raiders.

Judos pointed his sword at Brownhide, "You fought with us! You were an honourable fighter once!" He screamed accusingly at the stoat.

Brownhide snarled, "Kill them! Ætharr will return to find his home in ashes and his family slaughtered!"

The sound of metal and screams filled the air as the mustered groups of enemies met in joined combat. Judos picked up a shield from a fallen soldier just in time to deflect an axe blow aimed at his head. Rosheen shrieked with rage as she slashed the throat of a rat who had lunged at her with a spear.

Judos looked to his right and saw a Calador soldier wail as he was run through by Brownhide's sword. To Judos' shock, Ædelmær appeared with a battle cry, limping as he threw his hatchet at Brownhide. His aim was good, for his hatchet struck Brownhide in the leg. Roaring in anger, the older warrior slashed at Ædelmær with his sword, only for it to hit Judos' shield. Lunging to help, Judos knocked Brownhide back, "Ædelmær! Stay with your brothers!"

Even as he said this, Judos noticed Ædron crouching behind a shield as a fox battered away at him with a mace. Two Calador soldiers ran forward, dispatching the fox with their axes. Lorcan was carrying a wounded soldier back to the Hall even as Nuala protected his back.

Judos worked his way over to Ædron, grabbing the young weasel and bringing him over to where Ædelmær stood, "Come on! Stick with us!" Ignoring the slash on his shoulder that he had earned from this action, Judos kept Ædron and Ædelmær close as he fought. Joined by Rosheen, the four provided an attractive target to the enemy, so they were at the heart of the fiercest fighting. For the Vireo troops, their mission would be in vain if they could not destroy the capital of Calador and its residents.

Rosheen, already wounded several times, cried out as a spear pierced her side. Instantly, three Calador soldiers stepped forward to defend their Lady, even as Judos grabbed Ædelmær, "Get your mother back to the Hall!"

Ædelmær nodded and shouldered Rosheen as she limped out of the battle.

Judos looked around. Only Ædron was left in the battle. If he could just get the weasel to safety...

Even as he thought of this, Brownhide rushed him, slashing at him with his sword. Screaming in anger, Judos deflected the sword blow with his own weapon. Snarling, the two enemies squared off, inflicting wounds upon each other in between gasps of pain and effort.

At one point, Ædron attempted to intervene, only for Judos to yell out in anger, "Get him out of the way!" Immediately, a Calador soldier began pulling Ædron away from the combat, only to meet resistance from the Ealdor's son.

Judos blocked another blow from Brownhide, and suddenly saw his chance. Moving quickly, Judos lashed out at Brownhide with his heavy tail. Dodging it, Brownhide swung at Judos with a cry of triumph. The cry of triumph quickly turned into a scream of agony when Judos plunged his sword into the Vireo leader's chest. Staggering from the effects of battle upon his body, Judos looked around to see what was happening. The remaining raiders were in retreat, with a few providing cover from the gate with bows at the ready.

Judos cursed in pain as he ducked from an arrow shot at him. He looked at the surviving Calador troops, "Form a shield wall and advance! Watch out for arrows!"

Ædron stepped forward, "Judos, you're too wounded to fight! I'll lead in your place! Somebody take him back to the Hall!"

"No!" Judos yelled angrily. He had sworn that he would defend Ædron and his siblings with his life. He would certainly not be thwarted by one of those youngsters.

Ædron glared at him, embarrassed by Judos' refusal to allow him the chance to lead forces. Before he could reply, a shout was heard from one of the fleeing Vireos.

"It's Ætharr! Ætharr's here!"

Judos looked up in shock and amazement. The remaining Vireos who had been firing arrows turned away and began fleeing beyond the city. Ædron quickly turned to the troops with glee, "Come on! They're on the run! Charge!" Turning, he began running towards the gate.

It was then that Judos saw that one Vireo soldier had hidden amongst the houses, and had been about to flee for the gate, but saw the eldest son of the Ealdor running forward and recognized his chance.

Screaming Ædron's name, Judos ran forward, oblivious to the agony he felt from his wounds. The others ran forward too, seeing what was about to happen.

All in vain. Ædron, never even seeing his attacker, was shot through the chest with the first arrow. Gasping in shock, he looked down at the arrow sticking through his body, only to have the second arrow take him in the neck. Slowly, he crumpled into a heap.

Judos stared in horror at what had happened. He did not even try to dodge the attacker's third arrow, which struck him in the leg. At that point, the pain he had put himself through was too much for Judos, and his eyesight began to darken, until he collapsed, not so far from the body of the youth whom Judos had known since the very day he was born.


	36. Chapter 36

35

Ætharr had pushed his troops through the march, desperate to reach Æthelly as fast as he could. Roaveen's words had left a strong mark upon him, and he knew that Ibos had planned something truly sinister. So he had made sure that Craterus and the others were alright, he had left Ben and his other wounded to heal in that fortress, and he had taken his fit troops on a rapid march back to the capital.

Not even the death of Lanvor had kept him for long. At any other time, the death of that most loyal and deadly bodyguard would have devastated Ætharr, but he had more pressing issues. The fate of his family was suddenly placed into terrible jeopardy, he just knew it.

Sensing the dread and urgency in their Ealdor, the troops, as urged by Lt. Rojo, put their entire efforts into the race back home. Very little time was given for meals, rest, or other such things. The Calador troops had been trained for moments like this, and Ætharr's concern put them all the more on edge. It was rare that Ætharr ever showed this kind of panic or uncertainty.

At last, when they came in sight of Æthelly, their darker fears were confirmed. Smoke billowed from the capital, into the otherwise blue sky. A voice called out something, but the words were lost on the Calador forces.

Ætharr had felt his legs almost give way under him, and only the greatest of efforts had kept him from collapsing in shock. Roaveen's taunts echoed back to him, and he suddenly felt every victory he had had against Ibos mean nothing in comparison to this.

Immediately, his thoughts turned to his family. Were they safe?

Not even bothering to give a command, Ætharr rushed forward, sprinting to reach Æthelly for answers. Behind him, Rojo ordered the troops forward, while in front of him, Ætharr saw several vermin fleeing the city. Rojo noticed them and began a pursuit of them.

Meanwhile, Ætharr entered the charred, broken gates of Æthelly. Buildings were still on fire, and bodies lay scattered, without any prejudice to age or gender. Soldiers were laying out dead to be identified, while the wounded were being taken outside of the city to escape the smoke. Ætharr, almost on impulse, turned around and yelled for Rojo.

The one-eyed marten approached him, "Lord?" He stared aghast at the damage laid to Æthelly.

"Organize crews to put out the fires. And help organize aid for the wounded and arranging for the dead."

Rojo nodded and turned to go, even as Ætharr heard someone give out a yell.

"Father!"

Ætharr whipped around to see his daughter Nuala and son Lorcan rush over to him. Both were unhurt, and they wept as they ran towards him. Relief filled Ætharr as he embraced both children, tears pricking his own eyes.

"What happened?"

Nuala, carrying a healer's kit, explained about the attack that had engulfed Æthelly. How they had fought, how Judos and Rosheen had been wounded, and...

But Ætharr stopped her before she could continue, "Where is Rosheen?"

Still weeping, both of them led their father to where two soldiers were carrying a stretcher out of the city.

Wounded in several places, Rosheen seemed on the cusp of life and death. She had lost a great deal of blood, so Nuala explained, and Ætharr felt his blood run cold. He stood stock still as Rosheen was carried past him. More stretchers were being carried past, and Nuala hurried to help treat people.

Ætharr felt tears flow down his face, and he almost didn't notice another familiar looking form being carried past.

Judos was as grievously wounded as Rosheen was, motionless but still breathing, so a soldier explained. Ætharr looked upon the wounds inflicted upon his old friend and merely nodded in understanding. He knew that he had a duty to these people, but he had to know where his other two sons were.

Telling Lorcan to help with bringing out the wounded, Ætharr rushed forward, calling out his other sons' names.

He received a response immediately. Once again, relief surged through Ætharr as he carefully embraced Ædelmær, who was limping from a heavily bandaged leg. He too had been weeping, and was all the more shocked upon seeing his father.

Looking into his son's face, Ætharr had one more question to ask "Where is your brother?"

Closing his eyes tightly, Ædelmær turned and gestured behind him. There were no more stretcher-bearers behind him. Just a list of bodies and those who were combating the fires.

Ætharr already knew, though. He knew when Ædelmær was unable to speak about it, or unable to look at his father for shame and grief. But still he ran forward, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

It was a sight of such horror that only one who has lost a child could understand. Ætharr simply stood and stared at the body of his eldest son. The arrows had not even been removed from his body. Even for one so battle-hardened and scarred as Ætharr, it was the more horrific thing he could ever imagine.

Ætharr felt himself go back to the worst moment of his life, when his father had been murdered before him with arrows. Now however, he did not see his father, but instead saw Ædron in his place, dying. He had been taken before he had barely entered the beginnings of adulthood. And in such a way.

His legs buckling beneath him, Ætharr slowly extended his paw and stroked his son's forehead. He had seen his son born, had held him in his paws that day, and had watched him grow up. All that hope, optimism, and love, for nothing. Brought to an end by an assassin's arrows.

Ætharr stood up, swaying as though heavily drunk. Even now, at the very lowest he had ever felt, something told him that he must do his duty as Ealdor. He had the wounded to care for, his grief must wait.

Tears going unceasingly down his face, Ætharr walked out of Æthelly, where the wounded were laid out and being treated. Rojo was organizing the troops into squads to put out fire. Upon seeing his Ealdor, Rojo looked shocked, "My lord..."

Ætharr slowly shook his head, "You have tasks to carry out, Rojo." His voice was hoarse with suppressed grief.

Rojo nodded, but then spoke again, "My lord, we have captured all the survivors of those who attacked..."

Ætharr paused, saying nothing, but everybeast present could see the rage build within him, as if it were his very blood that grew hot and animated every part of his body.

After a moment, Ætharr spoke again, and though he did not yell or snarl, it was terrifying to listen to, "Where are they?"

Rojo pointed to where several vermin knelt, bound and guarded. They glanced up at Ætharr with terror in their eyes.

Ætharr spoke again, "Have you finished questioning them?"

Rojo glanced quickly at the guards, who fearfully nodded, stepping away from the prisoners. Instead of taking his battle-axes, Ætharr took a falchion from a nearby guard. Brandishing the heavy blade, he approached the prisoners with patient fury. Even as they cried and begged for mercy, Ætharr killed them where they were, his eyes filmed over with wrath, sobs of rage and grief accompanying every breath. None said anything about it. Most were too terrified to even gaze at the butchery. The Ealdor's bloody-mindedness became clear as the body of Ædron was gently carried out of the city, along with the rest of the dead.

Half-covered in the blood of the Vireos, Ætharr dropped the falchion and turned to Rojo, "The Vireo dead shall be thrown to the crows. No resting place shall be granted to them."

Rojo nodded, "Anything else, my lord?"

Ætharr slowly shook his head, "Just take care of any damages done to buildings. I will personally provide compensation for proven damages. And prepare funeral pyres." It was the closest he came to referencing his son. The crack in his voice upon mentioned the pyres further betrayed his devastation.

As Rojo headed off to carry out the orders, Ætharr turned to where his surviving children stayed with their mother. All three had stared in horror at their father's revenge upon the Vireo prisoners, and they looked at him fearfully through their tears. Their reactions brought fresh grief to Ætharr, and approached them slowly.

Kneeling by them, he looked at Rosheen. She had woken up, and was drinking an herbal potion offered to her by Nuala. Mother and daughter had grown so alike that Ætharr, for a brief moment, thought that he was hallucinating the image of Rosheen being tended to by her younger self.

Seeing Ætharr, Rosheen gasped in shock and relief, and she began to cry. Leaning in carefully, Ætharr grasped her paw, even as his own trembled with emotion.

"Ætharr," Rosheen began, still very weak from her injuries, "How did..."

"I received word of it," Ætharr said, not wanting to explain. The look on Roaveen's face became the image of a gleeful devil in Ætharr's mind, laughing at the misfortune that the Ealdor was going through.

Rosheen looked at her children, "Where is Ædron?"

Ætharr did not know what to say. Neither did Lorcan, Nuala or Ædelmær. Rosheen saw the looks of grief upon their faces, and her eyes filled with her own tears. She wept in utter silence, and yet this made her grief all the more terrible to witness. She looked at Ætharr, and both knew what the other was thinking. Both were thinking of their child, who had been so young with such promise. They thought back to when they had first brought him into the world, when they had assumed he would succeed them as ruler of Calador. There were no words needed, for what words could have done justice to what had transpired? It was what hundreds- no, thousands- of folk went through in time of war, but nothing truly prepared one for when one's own children were killed.

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Ætharr participated in the extinguishing of the burning buildings in Æthelly, and he learned the full account of what had happened from what the prisoners had said and what those inside Æthelly had witnessed. He felt as though a great part of him had died. He couldn't stop thinking of his father, even as he prepared the pyre for his son.

The funerals were taking place in the late afternoon, even as the sun was setting. A red sun. Ætharr cursed that sign with all his might, even as he gently laid the body of his eldest son upon its final resting place. Even in death, Ædron gripped the sword he had used in the fight. So he would go to the afterlife, welcomed by his ancestors, even as he waited for the rest of family to join him. It brought Ætharr little comfort as he lit the funeral pyre.

Judos would live. The doctors had been successful in keeping him from succumbing his wounds. Ætharr had been reassured by those who had witnessed his son's death that there was no way he could have been rescued. Judos had acted as far as he could to keep Ætharr's children safe. He had not betrayed his oath; it had simply been out of his power in the end.

This information did little to assuage Ætharr's rage and grief. However, despite all the anguish he felt, he couldn't muster any righteous fury towards Judos. The otter had nearly died doing his duty. Even now, Ætharr could not fault someone for that.

That night, even as the pyres burned (for they would take a few days to completely burn out), Ætharr went to see how Judos was doing. Rosheen had risen from her sick bed and had insisted on attending the funeral of her son, but Judos had been deemed too wounded for that. He was still busy regaining consciousness, and he needed long rest to recover.

Ætharr found him lying in the large building that was set aside as the Infirmary of Æthelly. It was, at present, filled with the wounded, so Ætharr had sent for more healers and doctors from outlying areas around the capital.

The otter was awake. He noticed Ætharr's presence, and was taken aback by how Ætharr had seemed to change. The weasel looked ill, as though he had not slept in days. His rapid march home, coupled with what he had had to deal with for the last six hours, had already been making their effect upon him.

"How do you feel, Judos?" Ætharr quietly asked, in a voice that seemed numb, deadened.

Judos blinked rapidly, as he remembered the image of two arrows piercing Ædron, as well as the thump that the young weasel's body had made when it had fallen to the ground. Beginning to weep, Judos gazed at his old friend, "I'm sorry, Ætharr. I'm so sorry! I failed you and Rosheen..."

Ætharr shook his head, "No. You did your duty for as long as you could, and longer than anyone else." If Ætharr meant it kindly, the emotion was not carried across. It sounded to Judos as though Ætharr was bereft of any more emotions.

"Where are your other children?" Judos asked.

"They are sleeping. Ædelmær will recover. Lorcan and Nuala are exhausted, and deserve some rest," Ætharr replied.

Judos looked at him with concern, "You should rest too. You have much to grieve over."

Ætharr did not respond at first, merely nodding slowly in understanding of what Judos was saying. Finally, he looked up, "You're right. Get well soon, old friend." Standing up, the weasel went to go see the other wounded in the Infirmary, as he knew it was his duty as Ealdor to honour. Those who were awake offered their condolences to their Ealdor for his horrific loss. Even those who had themselves lost family members on this terrible day showed grief at Ætharr's situation. Sadly, this display of sympathy only made Ætharr feel worse, and he was glad when he had finished and was able to go to the Hall.

Rosheen had been moved to the family's private quarters of the Hall at her own request, as she wanted to be close to her surviving children. She lay in a special bed to accommodate her wounds. Ætharr heard her soft breathing and knew that she was asleep. He moved on, past the huddled forms of his two sons and daughter, to the farthest part of the Hall. Shunning his own bed, Ætharr sat against the wall, his paws gripping one of his axes. He suddenly felt no urge to sleep anymore. He sat up, and listened to the silence of the night, save for the occasional crackling of the funeral pyres. The sound of fire reminded Ætharr of how cold he was.

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At some point in the night, Ætharr had fallen asleep, though he had suffered from visions of his son and father until he had forced himself to awaken multiple times. He knew that it would be a long time before he would be able to sleep properly again, if ever. The same thing had happened after his father had been murdered. And even after he had overcome his nightmares, they would return occasionally, never quite gone.

All weariness left him when Lorcan tentatively approached him, explaining that several important figures were coming to offer their condolences. Among those figures of Calador were Horal, Ptolemy, Ulric, and Ætharr's beloved cousin, Ædall. Ætharr thanked his son for the information, and told him to get something to eat.

Meanwhile, he remained where he was, unable to find the will to get up. He could see Rosheen, still sleeping, so he decided to leave her as she was. His children had all woken and were eating in the main area of the Hall. He didn't feel hungry.

He saw Rosheen stir, and look at him. She, too, was weary from her grief and injuries. Ætharr sat where he was, looking at her blankly. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or say.

Rosheen decided that for him. Softly, she spoke his name. After a moment of finding will to do so, Ætharr stood, and walked over to where his wife lay.

When he had sat beside her, Rosheen asked him a question, "How did you know we were under attack?"

Ætharr sighed, "It was all planned for a long time. I was sent out to defend the borders, even as diversions would be sent my way. Roaveen the Badger Lord is an ally of Ibos, and when I defeated his army, he hinted that you were in trouble."

Rosheen frowned, "But why? Roaveen had no way of knowing that Brownhide was successful in his attack upon us. He very nearly sabotaged his own side's attack."

This had puzzled Ætharr too, and he had thought about it during the night. Now he offered his ideas in a voice dripping with cold contempt.

"I think Roaveen was just doing it out of pride. He was ashamed that I had defeated him so thoroughly, and wanted to get me the only way he knew how. Or maybe he truly does not care how many vermin die, regardless of what side he's on. He's helping Ibos defeat me because I'm the greater threat. I have three other tribes as allies. If he crushes that, Roaveen can easily turn against Ibos. Why have we rarely seen the hares in combat? He's letting Ibos use his forces against us, and when Ibos has run out of use, Roaveen will destroy him, laughing at his triumphs."

Rosheen shook her head, "So he's either very cunning, or made stupid by his emotions."

Ætharr shrugged, "Either way, he is an enemy of Calador."

Rosheen nodded, "A powerful one. Salamandastron is said to harbour an army of almost two thousand hares. And they are supposed to be among the fiercest fighters born."

Ætharr said nothing. He knew about those figures, and he knew the legends of Salamandastron. Armies had gone there and broken themselves upon that beach and mountain.

He looked back at Rosheen, "Are you feeling well?"

Rosheen nodded, "I'll be alright, I just need more rest. The doctor said I also need a daily dose of medicine, can you help me, please?"

Slowly and carefully, Ætharr took a spoon and gave Rosheen the prescribed medicine. After thanking him, Rosheen went to sleep, and Ætharr sat beside her, as if guarding her from foes that only he could see.

He did not leave this position for hours, even as creatures came in to speak to him. Ulric, the oldest of his theigns and the first to have arrived, came in with a moving speech of how the creatures who had slain his son were cowards, and that he would swear vengeance against he who had sent such assassins. Ætharr accepted Ulric's condolences, disguising the fact that he wished to be left alone. He still felt empty inside, as though he had used up his emotions the day before.

Creatures came in, asking if compensation was still to be given. Ætharr shamed them by coldly asking if they doubted the word of their Ealdor, and repeating that any damage as was evident would be paid for. He would have a few scribes go round and make records of what had been burned. Others offering their sympathies were curtly thanked and offered something to eat for their journey to see him.

The sun made its journey across the sky, until Ætharr noted from the window's light that he had remained sitting beside Rosheen's bed for nearly the full day. She had only woken once, whereupon Ætharr had given her another dose of the medicine as was required. She seemed comforted that he had chosen to stay with her, neither one speaking about the reason why they needed the other's intimacy so badly at this moment.

It was at the beginning of sundown that Ædelmær came in from the other room, "How is Mother?"

"She's still sleeping, son," Ætharr responded. He hadn't given much thought to the other children over the course of the day. He had listened to them in the other room as they had received guests and had accepted sympathies. But what Ætharr had noticed more than that was the absence of Ædron's voice.

Ædelmær looked at Ætharr, "Father, if you're feeling hungry, dinner is in the other room..." His voice trailed off as he looked anxiously as Ætharr's blank stare met his eyes.

He said nothing. There was a very strange light in his eyes, like he was thinking the idea over. But the look on his face seemed to be offended that Ædelmær would inquire after his father's health. The young weasel stood on his bandaged leg, looking awkward and embarrassed for his venture. Yet he stayed, as though hoping for the answer he wanted.

Ætharr's face softened, and with a sigh, he slowly nodded, "That's a good idea, Ædelmær. Thank you."

A small smile of relief came to Ædelmær's face as he waited for his father to get up and the two of them walked into the main hall.

Shunning the head of the table, Ætharr sat between Ædelmær and Nuala, with Lorcan across from them. All four tucked in, saying little. It was, however this moment together that was all the comfort required. A sign that the living needed caring for, and Ætharr knew that his children needed him now more than ever.

Even as he ate contentedly, a fire of rage burned deep within him. It was a fire that had begun burning the day his father had died. It was the fire that had helped him burn a path across the vermin lands in his quest to regain what had been his. The fire of vengeance would burn hot once again before his days were ended. And to protect his remaining children, as well as avenging his eldest son, Ætharr of Calador would bring an end to his enemies once and for all.


	37. Chapter 37

36

Judos recovered slowly. The doctors said that he would have to wait at least eight weeks before he could walk again, and only because he had been lucky enough to not damage his more important organs.

Throughout his recovery process, he was visited by friends. Horal, Ptolemy, and Ædall, upon their visits to Ætharr within the first few days of Judos' recovery, dropped by to visit him. They, like Ætharr, did not blame him for failing to save Ædron. Nobody seemed to do that at all, considering how valiantly Judos had fought alongside Rosheen.

Judos didn't feel like he had done especially well. But the kind words from those around him were helpful in overcoming his personal guilt concerning what had happened to poor Ædron.

Rosheen was also recovering from her injuries, but Ætharr and his children would occasionally visit. Ætharr was far quieter now, and much more serious and reserved. Judos could tell that the Ealdor was hiding something, some unresolved anguish over the death of his son. Based on how he also seemed more tired these days, Judos doubted that Ætharr would find peace.

It was not for lack of trying, apparently. According to what others said to Judos, Ætharr was apparently spending as much time as he could with his family. The armies were not marching, the defences were being enforced around Calador's borders, and there was a wary air of peace in the land of Calador. Most were confused by Ætharr's actions, and they wondered if their Ealdor was planning something.

As the days went on, and no signs of campaigning were evident, Calador slowly accepted this new stance, but still with much confusion. Word came to Judos, through Ptolemy's regular visits, that Blackaxe of the Jeri tribe, Cocoran of the Falcarragh, and Kazahley of the Hunan were all ceasing offensives and were focusing on defensive measures. The allied tribes were beginning a process of sealing themselves up from Vireo, even as they continued settling the new lands taken from the destroyed Loptrio and Millar tribes.

Judos wondered what could possibly be happening. Ætharr would never let such a terrible thing go unpunished.

Saying as much to Ptolemy, Judos wondered if the weasel had an idea of what was going on.

The weasel shrugged, "If I knew, Judos, I would tell you. But I haven't been told anything, except to continue training as usual, and keep the fyrd on alert in case the enemy strike us again."

Judos thought about it, "Ibos must be terrified. Surely he's realized that Ætharr will kill him? He must be screaming for help from Salamandastron."

"The question is, will they receive any help," Ptolemy mused.

Judos had been informed by Ætharr of what had happened, so he offered his opinion on the matter, "Roaveen sounds like a much more duplicitous Badger Lord than usual, but then again, he could just be playing Ibos for the fool. It just doesn't make sense. The alliances between our tribes have not been broken except for Vireo, and they now face four tribes. The hares of Salamandastron have helped them score crucial victories against the Jeri and Hunan, but they have failed to destroy either tribe. Our borders are damaged, and Ætharr's been demoralized by his son's death, but in the grand scheme of things, it's gone terribly wrong for Vireo."

Ptolemy nodded, "Perhaps Roaveen was hoping that Ibos was more competent?"

"If that's the case, then Roaveen deserves Ibos," Judos replied scornfully, "He's made a huge mistake in putting his faith in that fool."

Ptolemy nodded, "Now it's just a matter of what Ætharr plans to do about this issue."

"I don't know," Judos said, "But something tells me that he's brewing up a terrible vengeance." He looked at Ptolemy's thoughtful expression, and decided to change the topic, "How is your family, Ptolemy?"

Ptolemy smiled, "They are well. They are growing up. My eldest son will be eligible for the fyrd soon."

Judos nodded, "I hope he will be safe." It was a different compliment than the sort usually given in Calador. They would often wish for glory upon each other's children, or a good life which would reflect well upon themselves and their family. After all he had seen, Judos merely offered his hopes that they would be alive and well. Ptolemy appreciated Judos' well wishes with a grateful smile.

A doctor came into the room, "Theign Judos? Forgive me, but lady Selma is here to see you again."

Judos smiled. Selma came to see him more frequently than any other. Even though they would not- could not- act upon the love they felt for each other, Judos and Selma had remained close friends throughout their time together. Judos, early in his recovery, had inquired about whether he could bequeath his belongings to Selma if he ended up dying, and Ætharr had assured him that it would be done should the situation arise. Judos wasn't sure if Selma had been told, and she never hinted at it, but it was enough that she would have been well cared for.

Selma entered the room, carrying a book from Judos' now-famous library. She gave a respectful curtsy to Ptolemy, who politely departed.

"Here's the one you wanted to read," Selma said, offering Judos the book.

Judos smiled his thanks, and asked how his theignship was doing.

"There aren't many disputes. Oswold's father passed away so he has inherited the land. There was an objection from Oswold's aunt, so a settlement was eventually paid. Gerhard is late on paying his debts, but that's because of his poor harvest, so I elected to give him an extension..."

Judos encouraged her to tell him everything that was going on back in his theignship. He wanted to be held up to speed on what he would be coming home to when he recovered. Selma was a very good administrator in his absence, and Judos had heard that those under his rule considered Selma his wife. The thought greatly amused the two of them.

After Selma informed him of the goings-on, Judos asked her about the education program.

"It's going along as usual. I've taken on part of the lessons so that the replacement isn't too swamped with work."

"Replacement?" Judos asked.

"Oh!" Selma said, surprised, "I didn't tell you? I'm so sorry. It's Ben. I just knew that you'd have no objection with him, he knows your curriculum."

Judos tried to picture Ben teaching the Calador weasels his curriculum, and he had an urge to laugh. As if Judos wasn't a strange enough sight in Calador!

"Did he volunteer for the position?"

Selma nodded, "He heard about your injury, and so he offered to fill in your place until you got better. He also said he'd visit you one of these days when he's free."

Judos raised an eyebrow, "Free? Free from what? The lessons are only five days a week."

Selma wasn't sure what kept Ben busy in between his lessons, which left Judos to ponder on the mystery. It most certainly had to do with Ætharr somehow, he just knew it.

In the meantime, as a week turned into five weeks, Judos was more preoccupied with his recovery. The process was slow, and he grumbled under his breath most of the way, but after two weeks, Judos was able to limp from his bed to a table where he could begin to have proper meals. Six long weeks after that, Judos was training with weapons again to build up his strength and agility. The doctors attributed his fortunate recovery to their own skills and a great deal of luck. Judos didn't dispute either of those ideas.

As he was staying in Æthelly during this time, he often did his weapons training with Ætharr and other members of his family. Rosheen served as an equal in terms of regaining her fighting strength, and her children were more than happy to practice with their guardian. Several times, all three had thanked Judos for keeping them safe, and Judos had been increasingly reminded that while he hadn't been able to save one, he had certainly influenced the survival of the other three.

It was, overall, a very pleasant eight weeks. Judos was able to spend a great amount of time with those whom he cared about, even as his responsibilities were postponed in favour of his recovery. He still worried for Ætharr's changed attitude and behaviour, but based on the way that his children were quickly returning to normal, Judos knew that Ætharr's affectionate presence was helping them immensely.

Ædelmær in particular was coming into his own. He, along with his brother and sister, was often found with his father, discussing topics or training with weapons. And in the evenings, Ætharr was a regular sight, taking long walks with Rosheen.

He seemed to be making up for whatever time he had lost in the past, Judos reckoned. Ætharr had always spent time with his family whenever he could, but his responsibilities had often kept him occupied, as had the education of his children. Now that their education was almost completed, he kept them very close. Or maybe he was just worried that he would not have much time with them anymore.

The death of Ædron still weighed heavily on Ætharr's mind. Judos knew that it reminded him so much of his father's death, and the emotional weight of both these deaths was proving very heavy. Not to mention the fact that Roaveen and Ibos had seemingly got away with this murder.

It all stemmed back to Judos' suspicion that Ætharr must be planning something.

After eight weeks, Judos went back to his theignship to resume control. He thanked Selma for all her hard work, and Ben for his voluntary assistance in training the youngsters of the province.

The raccoon smiled, "The pleasure was all mine, Judos. They were excellent students."

Judos returned the smile, but then looked serious again, "Ben, Selma told me that you were very busy in between lessons. May I ask what you were up to?"

Ben's smile also faded, and he shook his head, "I was told to tell nobody. Not even you."

That settled it. Ætharr was up to something big. And that Judos was not to be informed was an even bigger sign that there was something going on. Ætharr had almost never kept Judos out of something unless it was top-secret or something that he knew Judos would disapprove of. Often those two qualifications went paw-in-paw.

"So you can't tell me anything, Ben?" Judos asked.

Ben shrugged, "I was told that if you were to be informed of anything, he'd make sure you knew. But until then, it has to wait."

And so Judos waited. Weeks continued to pass, and Judos got caught up in mundane routines of his duty and role as theign. He still visited Æthelly frequently to visit Ætharr, Rosheen, and the children, as well as visiting Ptolemy at his home. It was a very quiet and normal life he had begun to lead. And yet there many times where he could not help but feel anxious. Just like many in Calador, Judos was waiting for what Ætharr was planning.

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If the people of Calador were wondering what was going to happen, then those outside it were paralyzed in silent terror.

In Vireo, especially, folk fearfully looked to the borders, expecting raids to come out from Calador or Hunan or Jeri. But it did not happen. Little news reached them from Calador, except rumours that Ætharr was mourning the death of his children. Others said he had only lost one child, and the others were being raised to feel hatred for all Vireos. Still more rumours proclaimed that Brownhide's raid had been completely for nothing, and they had all died without doing any damage, while others insisted that Brownhide was still waiting within Calador, a fugitive within enemy territory, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Roaveen had left a long time ago. Ignoring the worries of Ibos, he had remarked that the ferret had failed in his task of destroying Ætharr and his allies when he'd had the chance. Now he would go and regroup at his home, where he was needed.

"You can't just leave us to face Ætharr all by ourselves!" Ibos yelled when Roaveen had declared he was going back.

Roaveen looked at him with a bemused expression on his face, "Are you telling the Badger Lord of Salamandastron what he can and cannot do?"

Ibos stared at him for a second, torn between rage and fear. Finally, he seemed to decide, "I had your word that you would help us! We have taken the brunt of the fighting, we have been victories on several fronts! We must push forward now, while they continue to give us the advantage!"

"Advantage? Do you call this an advantage?" Roaveen asked, smirking. "Your general is dead, or if he's not, he's trapped in Calador. We have no word on what happened to Ætharr's family, but regardless, it's been confirmed that Ætharr is still alive."

"And who's fault is that?" Ibos said accusingly.

The amusement fled from Roaveen's face, and with a dark growl he stepped forward. In a flash, Ibos retreated from the Badger Lord's approach, drawing his sword. As if he could possibly defend himself against a fully grown badger.

Roaveen's anger left him, and he stared contemptuously at his former ally, "Look at you. A stupid, incompetent ruler who clings like a leech to better warriors. You might have had promise once in your life, or so they say, but now you've lost everything. You gave it all away out of arrogance and foolishness. I'm not going to stay here and let my hares die for your cause anymore. I thought you might be useful to me in destroying the real threats, but I was wrong. That's that, then. The vermin tribes you've attacked can have their revenge, and if their march upon Vireo leaves them thirsty for more, they are welcome to follow in the footsteps of so many others who tried to take Salamandastron! We'll see just how brave they are when their enemy isn't a cowardly ferret that made too many mistakes."

Ibos had paled beneath his fur at all what Roaveen had said, his jaw quivering at the insults and threats of revenge. Satisfied, Roaveen turned his back and began to leave. A piercing yell from Ibos suddenly rang out.

"You've made a terrible mistake as well, badger!"

Roaveen stopped where he was going, and turned around.

Ibos was pointing an accusing claw at him, his eyes alight with sudden malice, "You may be right that I'm not what I once was, so let a supposed failure tell you something useful. I once marched with Ætharr of Calador, and I have yet to meet a warrior that can kill him in battle. You underestimate the lengths to which he'll go for revenge and conquest. You call me stupid? Then you're twice the idiot for thinking that Salamandastron will keep you safe from Ætharr's vengeance! One day he's going to come for me, but when you hear about that, start counting off the days to when he arrives outside _your_ door! You can every one of your precious hares at him but they will all be slaughtered and their deaths will be on your head!"

Roaveen stepped forward with a snarl, raising one of his paws, but then stopped. He lowered his fist, and he smiled coldly. Nothing he could do to this ferret would be comparable to what the other vermin would do to him. So he simply left Ibos and the Vireo tribe, taking his hares with him.

So the delegates of the Mountain Regiment returned to Salamandastron, with their stories of their adventure ready for embellishment.

Korari, who had been told to manage the mountain while Roaveen was away, welcomed his brother back to Salamandastron, "It's been a while, brother. What news from your campaign?"

Roaveen was curt, not wishing to bring much attention to what he had been up to, "We subdued vermin threats, and we extended our influence into the vermin tribes. It will give them a second thought should they try and challenge us."

Korari nodded, accepting that information. He knew that Roaveen would not speak to him about these matters, but he knew two creatures that would.

Sophus and Ormond, the two friends who had gained rank and experience in the vermin lands, still counted themselves as good friends of Korari, despite what Roaveen would have said about it. One day, far from the eyes of Roaveen or his lackeys, Sophus and Ormond met with Korari, Col. Seahawk, and Lt. Col. Jackers. They spoke of everything that had happened during their campaign. It took a good many hours before everything had been told, Sophus and Ormond taking turns with their narrative, often finding contradictions before being able to finish.

At last, however, Korari thought over all he had heard. It unsettled him, especially the Calador leader. He was a danger above the likes of Ferahgo the Assassin or Swartt Sixclaw. This Ætharr had been present in several warnings that Salamandastron had received through prophecy. The three-axed killer, the one whom Roaveen's visions had spoken of. Korari remembered them, even if Roaveen had seemed to have held them in little regard.

"You think he will march upon us?" Korari asked his two friends.

Ormond nodded, "From what we 'eard about this warlord, we can expect him to pop his ugly 'ead around Salamandastron."

Jackers sighed, "Bally troubles ahead of us again, wot! An' this one seems to be especially dangerous!"

Korari looked at the old officers, "We don't know how many will march upon us, but we should be prepared for anything."

Seahawk and Jackers both nodded in agreement. Seahawk spoke up for the two of them, "If it comes to a right scrap, sah, then we'll need allies. Allies we can trust, that is," he added scornfully, thinking of Roaveen's diplomacy along the coastline.

Korari nodded, "Thornback has no love for Roaveen, but if Salamandastron is threatened, he will help. He knows what would happen if Salamandastron fell. He'd certainly persuade King Priam of the Highlands to come to our aid. But I don't think Priam would need convincing. He's reinstated the King's Scroll of allegiance between the Mountain and Highlands."

Jackers nodded, impressed, "But how would we send 'em any word if we gets attacked?"

Korari looked at Sophus and Ormond, "You two know the way, and you're both still fit runners."

Ormond looked worried, "If we ran off to go find Thornback, Roaveen would notice us gone. 'is Nibs won't appreciate his officers abandoning the mountain when they're needed most."

Korari sighed, "True. But how do we send out the message?"

Sophus looked up, suddenly, "I say, what about that feathered comrade we encountered before? That bird who guided us there in the first place."

"Walla," Korari said, nodding, "But how could we contact her? She could be anywhere."

Jackers frowned, "Well, if'n we don't think of somethin', an' this Calador weasel does decide to challenge us, it's long odds in favour of it being a one-on-one match. We'll have to fight the good fight together."

Seahawk scratched an old scar across the side of his head, "We'll fight together, an' bally well die together if need be."

Ormond and Sophus nodded solemnly to the words of the old hares. Korari sat with his four friends, and thought of what folk always said to describe Salamandastron hares. Perilous. Yes, Korari thought. They certainly were perilous.


	38. Chapter 38

37

It was a sight that Judos would never forget for the rest of his life. He didn't know whether he was awed at the spectacle, or simply horrified.

Ten thousand vermin were camped in the valleys and hills, living in a sea of camps and makeshift huts.

This was the fruit of several long weeks of planning. Six weeks after Judos had returned home to his theignship, he had been met by Ben and two Calador soldiers, giving him an unopened written message. In Ætharr's handwriting, the message was short and to the point:

_It is time for you to know everything. Meet me in the southeast lands of Calador. Ben will take you there himself. Bring your arms and armour.  
_

Judos had gone, giving Selma warning that she must not expect him back for a while. He had a feeling that Ætharr's plans involved war.

Ben and the Calador soldiers were tight-lipped about what awaited Judos. It had frustrated him to no end as they had made their journey, for surely now was a sufficient time to talk about what to expect?

The two soldiers knew nothing about what to expect, and Ben had kept his mouth shut as well, claiming that Ætharr wanted it to be a surprise.

And now, Judos stood atop one of the hills, staring out at a force that was easily the mightiest army ever assembled since the days of Ungatt Trunn himself. This was an army to not only defeat Vireo, but swallow it up by sheer force of multitude. Surely this was beyond excesses?! It was madness! Judos needed to sit down as he took in the sight of all these soldiers. Where was Ætharr?

Judos heard a call of greeting in his direction. Turning, he saw Ædall, wearing chainmail, a leather jerkin, and carrying his huge, double-headed battleaxe. Judos had not seen him dressed for war since they had first taken back Calador from the Millar tribe.

"What is all this?" Judos asked in a hoarse voice.

Ædall smiled, "This is the end of Calador's enemies. This is the day that my cousin will lead us to glory beyond anything we imagined before."

Judos shook his head, "All this to take Vireo? Ætharr could take Vireo with a tenth of these forces!"

"These forces are not just against Vireo, Judos." Ædall replied.

Judos realized what was going to happen, and he began to sweat in fear at the thought.

Ætharr of Calador was going to march on Salamandastron.

This was too much for Judos. He had to speak to Ætharr.

He found his old friend in the largest tent, surrounded by representations from all his allies, including a number of vermin that Judos had never met before. He did not like the look of them either, for they were meaner in appearance and character than the others.

Ætharr was, once again, dressed for war. While he had always been a youthful wonder, a cheerful and charismatic leader, now he embodied the image of a grim conqueror. Without any eagerness or joy, he welcomed Judos and Ædall as they entered.

"Judos! It's good to see you made it. What do you think?"

"This is madness!" Judos stated, "I thought I was dreaming when I saw it!"

Ætharr nodded, "Five thousand Calador, two thousand Jeri, one and a half thousand Falcarragh, nine hundred Hunan, and over six hundred mercenaries brought in by Ehrlich over there." He pointed out the leader of the strangers whom Judos had not recognized.

The numbers staggered Judos, and he almost wanted to fall down again, "So many? You've drained all the tribes to fill this region!"

Ætharr shook his head, "Rest assured, We've left sufficient garrisons in our lands, and I have taken as few of the fyrd as I could so that I rely mostly on professional soldiers."

Judos looked at the others. A number of creatures were there that he hadn't seen for many seasons.

The mighty King Blackaxe of the Jeri clan was present, towering over everyone else in the room. Beside him stood Jager and Snauw, two of his captains from the campaign against Oorlog. All three had gained much grey in their fur, but they still looked as prepared to fight as they had when Judos had first known them.

The scarred and grizzled Kazahley of the Hunan had also aged, even as he stood next to a pair of taller, much younger polecats that could only have been his sons.

Cocoran, son of Tiarnan and brother to Rosheen, represented his Falcarragh tribe in the gathering of allies.

Of Ætharr's theigns, four were present besides Judos. Craterus, Gyras, Horal, and Ptolemy stood around a large table with maps on it. All of them looked up and smiled at Judos and Ædall, the latter of whom went to stand by the table. Judos also noticed Ben amongst the representatives of Calador, who had gone directly to the main tent while Judos had been staring at the mighty army.

Judos was speechless at this assembly. He had so many questions, but had no idea where to begin.

Ætharr noted Judos' expression, "Judos, I'm sorry that I kept it from you, but if it helps, most of these creatures were just as surprised as you when I told them about it within the last day or two. I'm still waiting for a final few to arrive, and we'll set out in two days."

He looked at Ætharr, "How long have you been planning this?"

Ætharr simply looked at him. Judos knew what the answer was without Ætharr even having to say it. He had been mulling it over in his mind since that horrible day. The day he had lost one of his children to an assassin's arrows. Judos noted that Ætharr looked much older due to his lack of sleep. It must have been that unending desire for revenge on his mind, reminding him of those who had been taken away from him. But Judos was past concern at this moment. He was simply trying to make sense of everything.

He asked another question, "How many of those soldiers out there are from my theignship?"

Ætharr raised an eyebrow, "None. I'm keeping them as part of the garrison in Calador. If I'd taken any of your soldiers, you would have noticed."

Judos inwardly fumed that it was so, despite the fact that it was a compliment to his role as theign.

Ætharr spoke again, softer and more sympathetic, "Judos, you are still one of my dearest friends. I need to know that you are with me still. For I want to make sure that no member of my family will come to harm again."

Judos sighed heavily, "I'm still your friend, Ætharr. I never stopped being your friend. But consider the time you've spent with your family. Would you really leave them for this? Risk everything at Vireo and Salamandastron? How many must be killed before you can rest easy again?"

Something that Judos could only think of as a dark fire sprung into Ætharr's eyes, "For my family, my people, I would march out with a fraction of this number and burn all my enemies' homes to the ground!"

Judos almost took a step back from the Ealdor. This could not be. Ætharr looked older, more tired and cruel. And now he was at the command of thousands of loyal soldiers.

Judos suddenly thought of the ill-looking Erhlich and his mercenaries, "Why do you need six hundred mercenaries to complete that task?"

Ætharr's face was blank for a moment, and then answered, "Because they are loyal warriors, and because they will be useful to me in our campaign. I would like to spare my warriors and allies some part of the burden."

Judos decided to accept that answer as the best he could expect from Ætharr. He reflected sadly that Ætharr had been planning all this even as he'd spent so much time with his family. What had that meant? Had it all been an act? Judos could not bear to believe that, but the thought would not leave his mind.

Instead, he joined the table. The map of the tribes was laid out, with a route planned out to Salamandastron through the Jeri and Hunan lands from Vireo. Ætharr had noticed that Roaveen had had to take a longer route to avoid the territories of the Jeri and Hunan, which meant that the allied army would be able to reach Salamandastron in almost half the time.

Judos listened to the war plans with morbid fascination. It was clear that the name Vireo would cease to exist. He remembered how the Loptrio and Millars had been driven to the four corners of the world, banished from their homeland because they had fought against Ætharr. Now more would suffer the same fate.

"How many forces does Ibos have?" Blackaxe asked.

"None that would fight such a host as we have!" Kazahley remarked exultantly.

Ben gave a more useful answer, "He has less than a thousand left, so it seems. But their morale has been broken. Roaveen has left them to die, apparently."

This was news to everyone except Ben and Ætharr. Ædall shook his head, "Ibos won't stand a chance!"

"Surely he'll try to escape while he has the time to do so..." Ptolemy mused.

"It is of no concern," Ætharr stated firmly, "If he runs, we shall hunt him down. Ibos owes many creatures a blood-debt for his betrayal. He shall be made to pay it however he can." The promise was calmly given, yet Judos shuddered more than had it been delivered in a rage. At least anger could be a better excuse for Ætharr's dark, bloody-minded nature given reign.

"Will we stay in Vireo for long?" Cocoran asked.

"Only to rebuild our supplies," Ætharr replied, "We will then march east, to finish off the Alcax tribe."

Judos looked up sharply. The Alcax tribe had been allies of the Loptrios, and the allied tribes had left the Alcax holed up inside their territory, content that they had intimidated them into neutrality.

"What have the Alcax tribe done to us since the Loptrios were destroyed?" Judos asked.

"They have maintained raiding parties against us, stealing food and resources," Snauw answered. He indicated several places on the map with his claw, "I've been defending our borders here, here, and here from multiple Alcax raiders over the past seasons." He indicated one of many scars on his body, as though it justified the Alcax's fate.

Judos could only shake his head, holding back his indignation. Ætharr and his allies were seeking any excuse to take care of their enemies once and for all.

"And after that? What then?" One of Kazahley's sons asked.

Ætharr gave them all a hard look before answering, "After that, we march northeast to the coast, up to Salamandastron, where the coward expects to laugh as we crumble before him. It will be the last mistake he ever makes! For we shall march upon his lands with the greatest army that has ever been assembled, and when all hear of our great victory over so mighty a legacy, they will know that a new era has begun!"

This drew cheers from everyone in the room. Everyone except Ben, who was a mercenary despite everything, and Judos, who merely felt that this was the beginning of something terrible.


	39. Chapter 39

38

The great host moved slowly across the land, like a massive tide upon the coastline, and their sheer numbers truly brought to mind the image of leaves in an autumn gale. They were marching out to Vireo through Calador, and it would take them two days due to their numbers and supplies.

Every beast carried the equivalent of two weeks food with them, as well as armour and weapons, so there was no rapid marching for this army. This did not bother anyone, for they felt that they justified their slowness with their sheer size of force.

Ætharr assigned his theigns command of divisions in the Calador army, and each theign had multiple lieutenants to help them manage their sizable units. Judos was unfamiliar with most of those in his division, though he recognized a few from their campaigns in the Hunan and Jeri lands.

As they marched, Judos wondered just how this army could be controlled. He trusted the discipline of Calador and the Jeri, but he wasn't so sure about the wilder Falcarragh and Hunan tribes. Would they maintain proper conduct during the campaign?

Ben had decided to march with Judos' division, and so he provided a familiar face to Judos. During the day, each was preoccupied with the march, and so reserved their energy over the long hours.

Often they passed Calador settlements, with the residents looking with shock at the vast horde that seemed to swallow up the horizon in either direction. However, when they recognized Calador soldiers and the Ealdor at the front, the citizens often cheered and wished the army a great victory. Judos felt miserable, but declined to display that emotion as he marched.

He wondered what Ibos would do when he heard of the army marching to take him. Surely he would flee. Judos assumed that Ætharr would choose to hunt Ibos down rather than allow him to escape, which meant that the army would be delayed for possible weeks. Who knows what awaits us in Vireo, Judos thought to himself. Certainly nothing cheerful or good.

That night, as the army took its first rest of the day, Judos and Ben sat around a small fire.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Judos asked. He was referring to the horde itself, scattered over a large tract of land just to accommodate itself.

Ben did not smile, "Yes, but never on this large of a scale." He looked around at the seemingly endless tents, "It's amazing though, isn't it? One can't help but feel like you're in the middle of a legend unfolding."

"Legend!" Judos snorted. But he knew it was true.

Responding to Judos' comment, Ben raised a paw and swept it around as if to encompass everything, "All this will be remembered for generations, no matter how it turns out. Maybe it'll be the Golden Horde of Ætharr the Glorious, the Great Folly of Calador, or maybe the Vermin Plague of Ætharr the Terrible. That depends on who wins, of course."

Judos sighed, "You really don't care either way, do you?"

Ben shook his head, "I fight for Calador because that's who pays me. And I'm very curious to see how this turns out. I see this as something to tell stories about later, maybe when I've found a place to settle down in." He added an amused tone to that last sentence.

Judos looked at him curiously, "You don't want to stay in Calador?"

Ben shook his head, "I don't think so. It's been comfortable, which is as much as I could ask for, really. But I don't think it's what I want for the rest of my life."

"I don't understand," Judos said.

Ben smiled, "Why did you come to Calador? Were you paid?"

Judos shook his head, "No, I came because I'd met Ætharr and we'd fought together to survive. He offered me a home, and a position in life."

Ben nodded, "You were welcomed. You were brought there by a friend. Just as I was once brought to a place out in the north on the word of friends. A part of me still wishes that that had worked out..." Ben's look became wistful, and Judos wondered what Ben could be referring to.

"But anyway,' said Ben, snapping back to normal, 'I had a big chance to settle down and have such a home and position as you have in Calador. But it was taken from me. So now I'll do what I've always done until I find something like it again."

Judos felt morose, "Calador was a good home, but they are a tribe that has been built upon the tradition of war. Try as I might to work my way around it, all this is making me wonder if I could ever find contentment and peace in it now that Ætharr is on the warpath again."

Ben cocked his head to one side, "You? The legendary otter warrior of Calador?"

Judos spat in contempt of that title, "I suppose I'm liking peace more and more as I'm growing older. I'm not so young as I was when I first found battle glory. I'm not old yet, though," Judos added quickly, not wanting to sound like an old-timer, "But I've got a home in Calador, with Selma, my community, and with Ætharr and his family as my dearest friends. How can war compare to that?"

Ben looked at Judos for a long time, and then turned his back and went to find someplace to sleep, "I hope that someday, I find that kind of contentment as you have in Calador. I'd almost forgotten how good it can feel to have such a place."

Judos paused, wished Ben a good night, and leaned closer to the fire, looking up at the calm night sky. It was almost cruel to think that such a calm and peaceful moment was to give way to bloodshed.

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The following day, the mighty host moved forward again. By midday they had crossed into Vireo territory. Alertness was heavily insisted upon by the leaders, for this great mass of soldiers would be unwieldy in an ambush. There had been precautions made, of course, such as organizing the massive numbers of fighters into platoons and battalions to provide more flexible battle tactics, but carelessness could still lead to a disaster.

Ætharr called a halt, and asked for Judos to see him.

When he had found someone to look out for his belongings, Judos found Ætharr near the front of the army's camp, "You wanted to see me, Ætharr?"

The Ealdor turned and nodded, "You sent some scouts out earlier, I believe?"

Judos nodded, "Yes, you wanted regular runners to go out and see what's in front of us."

Ætharr nodded, "Yes, but I want that to stop. I know you have rotations established, so make sure that when the current scouts come back, nobody heads out again. I'll be sending the mercenaries out so that our forces have time to rest."

Judos nodded slowly, a puzzled look on his face, "If that's what you want, then I'll make sure it's carried out."

The weasel thanked Judos, but then looked at him with a curious look on his face, "What do you think Ibos will do when he hears about our approach?"

Judos frowned, "I expect he'll either run or he'll kill himself before you get the chance to do so." He spoke not with revulsion, but resignation. He knew that Ætharr had lost a son to Ibos, but no amount of blood would bring Ædron back.

Ætharr nodded, "Who knows if he hasn't already done so..." He sighed bitterly, displaying his frustration at the idea of his enemy eluding revenge.

Judos didn't know what to say. He stood by awkwardly, wondering if Ætharr had anything else he wanted to say.

Ætharr broke his trance and gave a nod, "You can get some rest, Judos." The otter nodded and left.

Ætharr summoned Ehrlich to his side. When the swarthy looking fox came up to him, the Ealdor gave his instructions, "Take your mercenaries into every village on this path, and capture all of them. No exceptions, but also no killing. I want them to be taken prisoner. When you do so, send a fit runner from each village. Tell them that they must go to King Ibos and tell him to surrender himself to the Allied forces if he wishes to spare his subjects from death."

Ehrlich nodded, "Alright, chief. But how long do we wait for an answer?"

"As long as we need," Ætharr replied, "Our forces will join your troops so that they are reinforced. I imagine you'd be thinly stretched otherwise. Bring the villagers together to this spot." The Ealdor indicated a spot on a map he had of Vireo. An old reminder of when Vireo had been an ally of Calador.

Ehrlich raised a claw, "If I could ask somthin' chief. Whadda we do if Ibos is already dead?"

Ætharr had thought about it even as he'd been speaking to Judos, "When you send out the runners, tell them that they must bring back Ibos's dead body as proof. Meanwhile, I'll send a few spies to Vireo's capital by the short way so that we know they are not lying."

Ehrlich frowned, "And if Ibos tries to negotiate?"

"No negotiations," Ætharr answered, "He must give a yes or a no. The runners will be told what to do, and with their families' lives on the line, they will be sure to do exactly what we say."

Ehrlich nodded, "If he says no?"

Ætharr paused for a second, and then hardened his voice, "Then the Vireos shall be massacred for their cowardly leader. Let's see if we can remind Ibos that he once had honour, or that his family was of noble stock before he ruined their reputation. Let's see if he can live with the death of his entire tribe."

Ehrlich, despite being a cold-hearted mercenary, started in surprise, "All of 'em, chief?"

Ætharr looked at him with a direct look, "They can only blame Ibos if he decides that he is worth more than all his subjects dying. Besides, I promised you plunder. If Ibos proves himself to be a coward, all the more loot for you and your troops. But remember, no killing until I give the say so, unless you meet resistance."

Ehrlich nodded slowly, "As you command, chief." Turning, he went to collect his mercenaries.

Ætharr walked back to the main camp, and approached the captains and theigns, "We shall camp here for a while longer. Tell the army to rest for a meal."

Judos gave the orders to his lieutenants, and sat down to start a small fire. As he did so, he noticed some of the mercenaries packing up and leaving.

Beside him, Ptolemy noticed them too, "Where are they going?"

Judos shrugged, "Replacing our scouts, I suppose. By the way, we need to make sure that the next scouts don't go out too, Ætharr wants them to rest."

Ptolemy nodded and passed the order on to two lieutenants.

Judos sat down and took a drink from his flask, "It's still astonishing for me. I barely know anyone in this army by name."

Ptolemy smiled as he sat down to save his strength for the next march, "Many of these troops are from my theignship, so it's not so bad for me. But I agree, there's never been such a large force ever commanded by a single vermin leader. I'm convinced that only Ætharr could do so."

Judos smirked, "Is that why Cocoran, Blackaxe and Kazahley aren't objecting? I imagine that they'd like to have an equal command of this army considering how we're allies together."

"Ætharr has no direct command over their forces," Ptolemy explained, "But they seem to recognize that it was he who has given them victory so often. It is Ætharr who brought the tribes together. Ask yourself this, Judos. Who else could have arranged things so that Hunan and Jeri are now allies, even after generations of oppression?"

Judos had to give Ptolemy that one. It was just one example of how Ætharr had changed everything about the tribes and how they lived.

Still, doubts were present in Judos' mind, "Is he still the Ætharr of before, though? Since his son's death, he has changed."

Ptolemy nodded, "Aye, well, considering my own family, I would not like to try and imagine what he must be going through."

"Whatever he's feeling," Judos said, not realizing just how accurate he actually was, "it won't be as bad as what Ibos will be feeling soon."


	40. Chapter 40

39

For two days, the allied forces marched along the Vireo border, capturing any small villages they could find and driving out the inhabitants. As was steadily becoming a rule of war amongst the allied forces, the villagers were permitted the chance to pack up before being forced to leave. Faced with thousands of soldiers, the villagers offered no resistance for the most part. Vireo had seemed to be especially demoralized, even as their doom now faced them. Ætharr had made sure to avoid the path that Ehrlich and his mercenaries were taken. He did not want his allies to be aware of those plans just yet. He also made sure that the villagers were driven away from Vireo, so that none could give any forewarning to the rest of their tribe on the huge danger now facing them.

Ætharr camped his forces on the third day, making sure that they kept their eyes open for any armed resistance.

Ehrlich had sent a runner back to him, saying that the last army of Vireo was marching to face Ætharr in battle. Ibos was apparently leading this army, probably because even a coward such as Ibos knew that his subjects would not allow him to abandon them.

So the Ealdor decided that it was time for his next steps. It was time to initiate that part of his plan which he had secretly arranged in his own mind, even as he had worked with the other leaders to make the plans they had agreed to.

He ordered a council of the high command, while the army resupplied their food and water near a river in the forest.

Ætharr waited until the reports on the forces had been delivered before playing his card.

"So far, it's been very slow marching, as we want to avoid a trap by the Vireos. I've received word from our scouts that Ibos is marching out to meet us. His army cannot hope to outnumber us. But I propose we kill two birds with one stone."

"How so?" Blackaxe asked.

Ætharr gestured respectfully, "If my lords Blackaxe and Cocoran, whose lands border the Alcax tribe, would wish to settle that conflict quickly, then why not now, when all eyes are upon Ibos' fate? The Alcax will not be expecting a direct attack, and they could not hope to defeat one of you, let alone two."

Judos raised his paw, "Is it not risky to divide our forces?"

Ætharr shook his head, "Ibos does not stand a chance against whatever forces will remain in Vireo. If we are to truly surprise Salamandastron, we must take less time in defeating our enemies here."

Everyone saw the sense in that, and Blackaxe voiced his agreement with this change of plans. Cocoran joined him, and it was thus decided that the Jeri and Falcarragh would march out to take the Alcax lands.

The orders were given immediately, and both Jeri and Falcarragh hosts prepared to march out. It was agreed amongst the leaders that the army would be reunited on route to Salamandastron.

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Judos watched the departure of their allies, with Ben and Ptolemy standing on either sides of him.

"You think they will suffer many casualties?" Ben mused.

Ptolemy shrugged, "I've fought alongside both Blackaxe and Cocoran. They're strong leaders. They'll know how to defeat the Alcax without too much loss to their armies."

Judos sighed, "And so yet another tribe is driven to extinction, and its population scattered into exile."

Ptolemy looked at his companion, "If they had defeated us, they would have been no better than us. In fact, they likely would have been much worse."

Judos wondered if that were true. It was just assumed that their enemies would have massacred, burned and pillaged them even while driving the survivors away. But, Judos thought, what made Calador and its allies so much better in the way it waged war?

Judos had always believed that the Calador weasels, based on his experiences fighting with them and living with them, were honourable creatures who belied the image of cowardly bullies that vermin always seemed to be portrayed as in stories at Redwall. However, they were ultimately capable of fighting ruthlessly. Certainly they were inclined to avoid unnecessary massacres but Judos sometimes wondered if that was just due to the fact that their leaders were good, honourable creatures. Obedience and loyalty were two qualities that were highly emphasized in Calador. How far would that loyalty go in following orders?

Thinking of this, Judos noted that Ætharr and Kazahley were moving their armies again. To prepare against Ibos's forces, they were planning to take one of the largest villages in Vireo, short of the capital itself.

After the inevitable delay of organizing and marching out when possible, the army of Calador and Hunan made slow but steady progress towards their destination.

Judos thought of their forces. Five thousand Calador weasels alone, without all their allies, would easily be able to fight the Vireo right now. Was Ætharr planning something?

After a long march over the course of the day, they reached the village with about four hours of daylight left. To most creatures' surprise, Ehrlich and his mercenaries were waiting for them.

Ætharr approached Ehrilich and bade him speak privately, "Success?"

Ehrlich shrugged, "Well, there weren't enough of us to capture ALL of Vireo, chief. But you knew that. Be that as it may, though, we got abou' one thousand civilians hostage. They're being kept in a makeshift prison camp just out in the fields over yonder." He gestured northwards from the village.

Ætharr nodded, "More than enough. I shall confront Ibos myself when we face him later today."

Ehrlich shrugged, "Aye, well, we heard he was marching out after the runners were sent to him. He reckons that he can wipe out six 'undred mercenaries."

Ætharr gave a grimace, "Ibos is not expecting me to be here, it seems. We ensured that no word could get back to him of what was happening on our route. He will fall into this trap easily."

Ehrlich nodded, "We're ready to do our part. What did you have in mind, chief?"

Ætharr pointed in the direction of the prison camp, "Be prepared for the worst. Station your mercenaries there, all of them. I will take a number of my Calador forces to meet Ibos. The rest will stay in this village and prepare for the march to the capital and on to Salamandastron. Meanwhile, I'll be speaking with Ibos. I'll remind him of what he risks, what his soldiers risk. If the order is to be given for the massacre, I will order a beacon lit, and you will be able to see the smoke from where we are. You know what to do if you see the smoke. But no sooner."

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Ætharr chose a thousand of his best Calador soldiers, joined by one of Kazahley's sons and five hundred Hunan. Of his theigns, Ætharr chose Gyras, and Craterus to accompany him. Ædall went with them too. Meanwhile, it was up to Judos, Ptolemy, and Horal to guard the village and keep order with the rest of their forces.

Judos looked at Ætharr with a concerned expression, "Are you sure you've got everything planned out?"

Ætharr nodded, "Considering that this will be a terrible shock for the Vireo army approaching us, I have a feeling that Ibos will surrender rather than fight our forces."

Judos sighed, "I hope so."

Ætharr's expression softened for a moment, almost out of reflex. Quickly, the Ealdor realigned his expression to a neutral one again. Clasping his friend on the shoulder one last time, he joined Ædall and Craterus as the three weasels hurried to catch up to their departing forces.

Judos wondered about that brief moment. What had been the look on Ætharr's face? Remorse? What did Ætharr have to be remorseful for? Or was he just remembering the death of his son?

Ben approached the otter, "Some of the Calador troops are organizing a few games while they wait. Would you like to join in?"

Judos smiled. There was nothing that said a theign couldn't have fun with his soldiers. In fact, such camaraderie was encouraged, so as to provide better loyalty and comfort amongst those who would need to fight alongside one another.

The otter and raccoon headed off to relax and have some fun in this most unlikely of times to have such fun.

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Ætharr knew that Ibos would be marching south east, and so he organized half of the allied soldiers under his command for a defensive battle. Meanwhile, his other forces were hidden so as to attack the Vireos at their most vulnerable if they chose to fight. Kazahley's son had relinquished authority to Ætharr, placing his soldiers in the forest on the right wing of the defence unit. The left flank consisted of another forested area, even as the horizon oversaw more hilly countryside. Ætharr stood with the defence unit, watching the distant hills, waiting patiently for Ibos to arrive.

As they waited, Ætharr gave his orders to the army, ensuring that everyone knew what to do. He inspected the pile of wood that was collected to the side of the battle formations.

At one point, he looked at his cousin, Ædall, standing with his troops. The two of them had spent most of their lives together. They had both raised families, and they had maintained their close bonds. Ædall had been one of the first to visit Ætharr after Ædron's death. He had wept for his nephew, and Ætharr had been moved to fresh tears.

Ædall's own children were growing up fast. His son had almost completed his education, and his daughters were growing tall and beautiful. Ædall had remarked several times that they wanted to fight in the fyrd as well. This was not a completely unprecedented idea, but it was still unorthodox.

Thinking of his nieces, Ætharr was reminded of his daughter, Nuala. She too, was uninterested in starting a family anytime soon, and wanted to learn the skills of a doctor. She had already acquired a great amount of healer knowledge, as she had demonstrated, and her fighting abilities were at least on par with her brothers. Ætharr and Rosheen had decided a long time ago that they would not force a husband upon her. It would be up to her own discretion. The age of marrying daughters into temporary alliances was past, thanks to Ætharr's uniting four or five tribes together into a sort of union.

Eventually, in the mid-afternoon, a signal was raised by a lookout. Less than an hour after this alert, the dust of the marching Vireos was visible on the horizon. Later, the banners and spears of the Vireos were evident. Ætharr glanced at the large beacon that his troops had constructed, and he bade two soldiers pour some lamp oil upon the large pile of wood.

The Vireo host marched up, shirking the forests in favour of the five hundred soldiers awaiting them.

It was not until they drew up close that they could see what sort of army it really was that was waiting for them. This was because Ætharr had forbade any banners or insignia in order to prevent any raised suspicion.

Now, however, Ibos' army was about fifty paces from the Calador unit. Based on the way they were cheering and taunting, waving their weapons, they seemed to be preparing themselves to charge forward. Now was the time, Ætharr thought.

"Now!" He roared.

At once, several banners were raised above the heads of the Calador soldiers. They organized themselves into a tight shield wall, the standard fighting style of Calador. Exultantly, Ætharr and Ædall stepped forward so that they were at the head of their forces.

The desired effect was immediately achieved. The Vireos were struck almost dead with horror at this turn of events. These were not the mercenaries that they had been expecting, it was the Calador army under the Ealdor himself.

Ætharr took a deep breath, "Ibos!" Now that his moment had come, he felt himself fill with anger.

There was no movement amongst the Vireos. They looked at one another, uncertain of what to do.

Ætharr stepped forward again, feeling hot with the rage coursing through him, "IBOS! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE! FACE ME WITH A SHRED OF DIGNITY!"

Still no response came from the Vireos, although many were getting agitated and worried. As if they had something to hide, Ætharr thought.

He raised his axe, "Ibos, you received my words. We have captured over a thousand of your people, and we will slaughter them all if you refuse to surrender yourself!"

He waited again. There seemed to be movement within the Vireo ranks. As if there was an argument going on.

Ætharr was growing impatient. He had given Ibos days to surrender. Perhaps he was simply going to die a coward to the very end. So be it, Ætharr thought.

Turning around, he yelled, "Light the beacon! Those Vireos shall die for an undeserving king!"

Just as he said so, a voice rang out in panic, screaming Ætharr's name.

The Ealdor turned around, eyes wide, "You!"

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Judos, Horal, and Ptolemy supervised the soldiers as they began a tournament of football amongst their platoons. Judos had very little experience with the game, but Ptolemy was a lover of the game, having played it often in his youth.

In no time, the games began in earnest, as the soldiers played fiercely against each other, weapons close by in case of an attack. They were outside the village, where the fields made for more room and better ground to hold the tournament.

As Judos supervised, he wondered about how Ætharr was doing. Had he found Ibos? What if he required assistance?

He asked as much of Ptolemy, but the weasel hadn't been able to give a good answer.

As the tournament went on, the games spread out further across the fields, even as Judos and Ptolemy would make rounds keeping an eye on the soldiers left under their watch.

Suddenly, a group of weasels approached the two theigns, their faces alarmed, "Come see what we found!"

Following the weasels, Judos and Ptolemy saw that the plains gave way to a copse of trees in the distance. But as they got closer, the animals could see that the copse was covered by a makeshift wooden cage, patrolled by many soldiers.

"Whose troops are those?" Judos asked. He was still too far to see the livery of the soldiers.

"I don't see any insignia," Ptolemy replied, having better eyesight than Judos.

Judos frowned, "Should we sound the alarm for the rest of our forces and investigate?"

Ptolemy shrugged, "They don't seem to be doing anything other than guard that group of trees, but I don't know why." Suddenly, the weasel started and leaned forward, staring hard. He gave an involuntary gasp, startling the others.

"What's wrong?" Judos asked.

"It's Ehrlich and his mercenaries!"

Judos was confused. What were the mercenaries doing out in the middle of Vireo territory without orders? Or had Ætharr given them special orders? The otter couldn't be sure.

He decided to take a chance. He stood up, addressing Ptolemy and the other Calador weasels, "Right, I'm going to see what this is about. If anything happens to me, alert the troops immediately." The others nodded, and crouched down to conceal themselves in the half-grown crops.

Judos strode forward to the copse, his sword at his side, ready to be drawn. He gave out a call of greeting to the nearest guards, "Soldiers!"

Alerted to his presence, the nearest two score guards rushed forward, arrows notched or spears held ready to fight. The otter lifted up two paws, "I'm Judos of Calador! We are allies!"

One stepped forward. It was Ehrlich, "So we are, otter." He waved his paw at the others, who slowly stood down their arms.

Judos continued heading to the copse of trees, "What's over there?"

"Unless Ætharr told you, it ain't none of yer business! Ally or not, I'm to keep this place safe." Ehrlich growled.

Judos wondered if he should simply walk away and take Ehrlich's advice. But the arrogance of the fox's voice, coupled with the otter's suspicion concerning Ætharr's war plans, made Judos continue to step forward, "We are equals in this war, Ehrlich. I have been Ætharr's friend longer than you have, and if he wishes to punish me for finding out about this secret plan, he can do so himself!"

Ehrlich cursed, and when the other mercenaries made to intercept Judos, the otter drew his sword, "There are several Calador weasels nearby. They shall witness you murder a highly honoured and respected theign of Calador. Who do you think Ætharr will punish worse?" It was a dangerous threat, and it worked like a charm. The mercenaries made way for Judos to see what the cage was keeping within the copse.

He found out immediately as he stepped closer to the cage. To his horror, the otter saw dozens, no hundreds, of vermin crouched tightly together with almost no room to move. Weasels, ferrets, rats, foxes, stoats, males, females, children, elderly, all were to be seen. Many looked up at Judos, fear and hunger written all over their faces. As Judos peered further into the trees, he could see crowds of others, all held close together. The first three metres of each treetrunk had been sheared of branches, which left these creatures trapped with nothing to do except sit and whimper.

Judos felt sick, and he stepped away from the large wooden bars holding all these animals in revulsion. What was this madness?

Whipping around, he pointed his sword at Ehrlich, "Are you out of your mind, fox?!"

Ehrlich sighed wearily, as though expecting such a reaction from Judos, "Look, I'm doin' what your friend ordered us to do."

Judos felt himself tremble. Adults, elderly, children, all of them left there to either starve to death or collapse, "How long have you been keeping them here?"

Ehrlich shrugged, "A few days, the first ones have been 'ere. The others shorter than that."

Judos heard himself shout with rage, "AND THEY'VE JUST BEEN SITTING HERE WHILE YOU DO NOTHING?"

"Aw give us a break, otter," one of the rats standing next to Ehrlich said, "They're in the shade, ain't they?"

Judos almost struck the rat out of sheer anger, but instead responded in a voice that was half sarcastic and half hysterical, "Oh aye, of course, 'cause that's all that they need! A bit of shade and they're all fine! It's a damn picnic when you put it like that!"

Ehrlich put his paw on his scimitar, half-expecting Judos to attack him, "Settle down, Judos. They're being kept prisoner, that's that. Calm yerself."

Judos stared at the fox, and knew that he was right. Speaking more calmly, but in a voice still choked with rage, he asked another question, "Since they're civilians, and prisoners of war, are you treating them properly?"

"We don't harm 'em unless they try to escape. We tried feedin' 'em as Ætharr ordered, but there's only so much food to give 'em. Besides, it might not matter anymore soon."

"What are you talking about?" Judos asked.

Ehrlich looked troubled, regretting that he had spoken that last sentence. As Judos stared at him, he relented, "Ætharr's tryin' to lure Ibos out by offerin' to trade Ibos for all of these 'ere prisoners."

Judos felt himself go cold, "There's hundreds here... trade for Ibos... what if he refuses?"

Ehrlich gave him a long, hard look.

Judos really was going to be sick. All those creatures... civilians... children... massacred if Ibos didn't surrender himself to Ætharr's bloody vengeance.

The otter felt his legs nearly give way underneath him.

"How will you know what to do? The Ealdor's nowhere near here..."

Ehrlich sighed, "Judos, relax and listen ter me. We're only gonna keep 'em here until he 'as Ibos. The chief's goin' to face Ibos. If Ibos surrenders, then that's that, and we let these prisoners go. If we see a smoke signal from Ætharr, we... well, you know what we're gonna do."

Judos felt contempt in Ehrlich's voice as he explained what was going on. Judos felt contempt for Ehrlich too, but for the opposite reason.

He knew what he had to do. He had to stop this madness. Judos knew that Ibos would either flee or fight. He did not care for his subjects, and he would take self-preservation over his subjects' lives. Ætharr would then give the signal and all those Vireos would be massacred by these savages.

Judos turned and began running away from the cage, away from the mercenaries, past the confused Ptolemy and Calador weasels. He ran as fast as he could, in the direction that he knew Ætharr's forces had gone.

Judging by the sun, it was about noon. Judos knew that he had to hurry in order to catch up to Ætharr's forces. He didn't know what to say when he got there, he didn't even consider it. All he felt was a frenzied panic to save those hundreds of Vireos who would be slaughtered like they meant nothing.

How could Ætharr do this, Judos thought over and over. He was a father! Did he feel no guilt over planning such a horrific massacre? Was he truly no better than the tyrants he had fought so hard against? Judos forced himself to keep running, following the route of the army by the heavy tracks in the earth. Location would not be an issue. Time was what Judos was worried about.

As the day went on, Judos's sprinting slowed to a jog, but still the otter wouldn't stop. He thought of the fearful mews of the children in that cage and he thought of what Ehrlich would do to those children if Judos didn't hurry. He refused to live with so much blood to his name. He gasped wildly as he kept on running, scared that any second, he would see a column of smoke fill the clear sky. He didn't know what he would do if that happened.

Now he knew why Ætharr had hired these mercenaries. It all fit in Judos' mind. None of the other tribes, not even the Hunan, would consider killing children. It was also why Ætharr had sent the bulk of his allies to the Alcax tribe. They would not be able to object to something that they knew nothing about. It was why the Calador forces had been left in the village. Only a few adventurous soldiers had found the camp, on a chance. And only Judos would have challenged Ehrlich when Ehrlich had claimed the authority of Ætharr's orders.

None of this meant much, however, as Judos ran on, nearly crying from the effort it took for him to run. It had been at least an hour since he'd began running, and he felt drained. Still, he pushed himself on, daring not to stop. He could almost hear the call to arms in his mind and the screams of hundreds of families dying in Ibos' place.

The tracks got fresher and fresher, until Judos, as the mid-afternoon sun shone down upon him, came upon the Calador and Hunan battle positions. With a long gasp for air, Judos could see that the troops were preoccupied with something in the distance past two small woods. When he saw that the large pile of wood standing nearby was not burning, Judos sighed with relief, and collapsed where he stood.

After a few minutes of regaining his breath, he heard someone shout something. Getting up quickly, Judos saw the Calador forces raise their colours, flying them as a Vireo host approached. Ætharr's voice rang over the would-be battlefield, and Judos even picked out his friend as the Ealdor stood in front of the visible group of soldiers.

As he slowly headed for the nearest group of soldiers, Judos suddenly heard Ætharr yell something new after a pause.

"Light the beacon! Those Vireos shall die for an undeserving king!"

Panic like nothing else seized Judos, and he ran forward, "Ætharr!"

He saw the weasel turn around quickly, and his eyes widened in shock, "You!"

Judos ran forward, "Ætharr, don't do it! You're going to kill hundreds of innocents! Children!"

Astonishment left Ætharr's face, and he looked grim as Death. Calling out in a voice which left Judos shuddering, "This is Ibos' doing, Judos. And it's the fault of anyone who follows him that didn't turn him in themselves!"

Even as he said so, a commotion broke out amongst the Vireos. Amid the screaming and fighting, the soldiers suddenly threw a lone figure forward. The figure lay on the ground, weeping loudly. Ætharr realized, with mild surprise, that they had given up Ibos. But why now?

Turning back to look at Judos, Ætharr realized that it was because of the otter's bedraggled, terrified appearance. The Vireos hadn't believed what the Ealdor was saying until Judos' convincing fear had shocked them into reality. Judos' status as a Redwall otter had given him the deserved reputation for having higher morals than the average vermin. Ætharr, too, had a reputation for being honourable, so the Vireos had assumed that the Ealdor had been bluffing. Judos' convincing plea, for there was no doubt that he'd just arrived and was in a panic, had ironically made all the difference.

Ætharr sighed with relief, and he yelled out a new order, "Pull down the firewood. There will be no need for it today."

Judos simply stood and stared as several Calador soldiers hurried forward to break up the would-be signal. Clearly, they had been just as uncomfortable about killing prisoners as Judos had been. Ætharr was impressed at the fact that they would have followed his orders through regardless.

He turned to where Ibos was attempting to flee, only for two Vireo soldiers to hold him steady. A third approached the Ealdor with a white flag, "My Lord Ætharr, we thank you for sparing our folk."

The Ealdor pointed at Ibos, "Why did he not flee?"

The soldier shrugged, "We heard that a group of mercenaries was taking our folk prisoner. Ibos decided to prove he was worth fighting for by leading us to an easy victory. He didn't know he'd be marching on you, my Lord."

That made sense. Ætharr had been careful to conceal his presence in Vireo by preventing any refugees from retreating in the direction of Ibos and his last army.

Anger filled Ætharr's veins once again, and he knew that now was the time for revenge against an old enemy who had arranged the murder of his son.

He took a step forward, "You Vireos have caused irreparable damage to the other tribes. Your king betrayed his sacred alliance with us, and he sent assassins to slaughter children." The Vireos looked scared, wondering what was going to happen now.

Looking at one another, a few of the Vireos suddenly dropped to the ground and knelt to Ætharr. The rest of the army followed their example, letting their weapons fall at their feet and kneeling to the Ealdor of Calador. It was an impressive, yet terrifying sight.

Ætharr looked upon it all with a sense of furious triumph. He had brought his foes to their knees, and if he wished to, he could have them all executed for their role as soldiers under Ibos' command. However, he suddenly had a better idea. An idea which would kill two birds with one stone.

He spoke loudly so that all the Vireos would hear him, "You have all fought against us in the past! You followed that miserable piece of offal," he said, indicating a quivering Ibos, "into enmity with four former allies. Such actions must be punished!"

Judos almost spoke out again, but stopped when Ædall suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered into his ear, "If Ætharr wanted these creatures dead, he'd have ordered it by now. Trust him."

Trust him, Judos thought darkly. How could I ever trust him again?

Ætharr, meanwhile, had spoken again, "Vireo is no longer a tribe. You will find new homes elsewhere. I declare you to be banished forever! The land of Vireo shall be razed and sown with salt, so that no others will settle on this land! They will know what happened to the last creatures who lived here!"

The soldiers of Vireo quaked at these declarations, as though fearing that they would be killed as an afterthought. Their spokesperson hastily thanked the Ealdor for his mercy.

Ætharr suddenly raised a paw, "There is only one more thing that must be done before you are free to leave in exile."

The soldiers looked up in puzzlement.

Ætharr pointed at Ibos, "His blood will end the feud between Calador and Vireo. The price for betraying his oath was his life."

The soldiers stared at their former king, who continued to weep.

Ætharr spoke again, in a cold voice, "I want him to suffer. See to it that he does not have an easy death."

The Vireo soldiers understood, and they set about killing Ibos in a manner which lasted an hour before the Vireo chief breathed his last. Such a cruel death had not been seen since the death of Ætharr's treacherous uncle, Ælfer. Judos was relieved that the prisoners would be spared, but he was still shook by the cruel end that Ætharr had arranged for his hated enemy. Ibos' own soldiers carried out his grisly murder, for it was through Ibos's suffering that they would be spared a similar fate.

Ætharr watched it all, remembering the way his son's body had been propped on one side by the arrows in his body. He had thought of his father while ordering the death of his uncle, for it had been the only way he was able to feel truly justified with such cruelty. However, he felt no qualms about Ibos' suffering. This was a long time coming.

After Ibos was finally dead, Ætharr oversaw the Vireos scatter to find their families and flee the wrath of their conqueror. Ætharr ordered runners to tell Ehrlich to release the prisoners, and give them food from the allied armies' supplies.

Vireo would be purged of supplies for the next day or two, as well as ensuring the destruction of every settlement left in the wake of the Vireo's exodus.

With the downfall of the Vireo clan, and the inevitable defeat of the Alcax tribe, there remained only one thing to do.


	41. Chapter 41

40

The news came quickly from those who lived further inland. It was news fit to chill every Salamandastron heart.

Ætharr had emptied the Vireo lands and had laid vast tracts into waste. His army was an unheard of number, thousands strong. His allies had crushed another tribe, and had driven its survivors to flee south and find some other lands to settle. Ætharr was said to be preparing to march again, and few doubted where the weasel intended to go.

Roaveen remembered what Ibos had said to him before he had left Vireo, and he began to suffer sleepless nights. He would see endless ranks of faceless soldiers, and however many he slew, there were always more to take their place. Finally, he would see the face of Ætharr as he remembered it, but it was skewed, demonized, more like a monster than an animal.

Roaveen reassured himself that Salamandastron had never been taken. The Long Patrol and Mountain Regiment hares numbered two thousand strong in total. They had never allowed the mountain to be conquered before.

Meanwhile, many amongst them talked of this new foe, who was said to be the greatest vermin conqueror who had ever lived. The whispers of fear amongst the youngsters were matched by confidence from the older veterans that vermin soldiers would come and go. It made no difference. Salamandastron would stand tall.

Korari wished he shared these hares' assurance. He too, was suffering from bad dreams. He feared that this Ætharr would prove mightier than the other vermin that had approached Salamandastron.

What was necessary was the acquiring of allies. Salamandastron had always been able to rely upon Mossflower residents for support. Otters, squirrels, Guosim shrews, all had marched to the aid of the mountain in the past.

Roaveen was advised by his military leaders to send runners east. Reluctant to beg for help, yet also realizing that this was a terrible threat, Roaveen had little choice but to relent and send out scouts to Mossflower to request aid.

Korari declared that they also had strong allies to the north. King Priam of the Highlands had renewed the oath of the King's Scroll, signed eons ago by Lord Brocktree and King Bucko Bigbones.

At the council, most were astonished to find out this news, and they began asking several questions about the Highlands. Where were they? How many? Was that where Thornback was?

Roaveen silenced them all by thumping the large table with his paw. Silence fell once again.

Roaveen looked at Korari, "Who is this King Priam?"

"He's a hare, descended from the line of Bucko Bigbones' family," Korari replied, "He is the leader of the Highlands, and from what I've heard and seen, he is a just and honourable ruler."

Roaveen frowned, "What of Thornback?"

Korari shrugged, "I think he said he was the governor, a step down from Priam."

Roaveen snorted at the thought of a hare giving orders to a badger, while the hares murmured amongst themselves, intrigued at this new information. Roaveen noticed that Seahawk and Jackers didn't seem surprised by this information. Korari must have talked to them all about it without telling anyone else. At another time, Roaveen would have been angry with Korari, but now there were more pressing issues.

He looked back at his brother, "How long would it take someone to reach the Highlands? And how long before they could come here with an army?"

Korari shrugged, "A boat would take three days to get there if it left immediately. I don't know how long it would take them to prepare to march to our aid..."

"_If_ they march to our aid." Major Krieg put in gloomily.

Korari glared at Krieg. He had grown to hate this old hare, this sycophantic lackey of Roaveen, "Thornback and Priam _will_ come south to help us if we need it!"

"So why in all this time have they never come before?" Krieg countered.

Korari paused. He hadn't learned much about the Highlands during his brief time there. He knew that his uncertainty would discredit him at this council, but he could not come up with a satisfactory answer in his mind.

Suddenly a voice spoke up, "If Lord Roaveenwill allow it, I can answer this question."

It was Captain Sophus, the academic officer in the Mountain Regiment. Roaveen merely nodded, as he was secretly curious for the answer to Krieg's question.

Sophus stood from his chair and gave his answer, "For many, many generations, the Highlands were subject to utterly reprehensible warfare amongst themselves. Groups and cohorts would combat one another to acquire further power. This was all finally put to a fitting end thanks in part to Thornback, who restored the rightful authority to its place in the Highlands. Priam is one of the last living descendants of the Bigbones family. And he owes Thornback a great deal. If Salamandastron is attacked, we have a very strong incentive to believe in their assisting us."

Roaveen sighed after that extended explanation. Sophus was famous in Salamandastron for his elevated vocabulary, and he was grateful that Sophus had held back from using his more obscure dialogue.

He glanced at the hares of the Long Patrol and Mountain Regiment, "We have a number of sea craft still from my earlier conquests. We will send one out with a small crew to reach the Highlands as soon as it can so that they can begin mustering their forces to aid us."

"Who shall crew the ship?" Lt. Col. Jackers asked, "T'wouldn't be a bally good idea to divide our forces, wot!"

Roaveen frowned for a moment, irritated with his old rival, but answered the question after giving it a moment's thought, "I'd rather lose a score of hares to bring another army here than keeping them here for nothing."

He glanced at Korari, "Since you know the way, you will take them there."

Korari blinked in surprise. Shouldn't he stay here at Salamandastron? He would fight for his home just like anyone else at the mountain!

However, he understood Roaveen's standpoint. Korari knew where to go, and he still had a good relationship with Thornback. If anyone could summon Thornback to the mountain again, it was Korari.

But still, Korari could see another motive typical of Roaveen. It left him as the sole badger at Salamandastron, the one who would lead the front charge against the invaders. Roaveen was still, even now, thinking of how to further his own reputation and name. He would be the Badger Lord that held Salamandastron from Ætharr while Korari had run to get Thornback.

If he had still been a youngster, Korari would have been enraged at this underhanded dealing from his eldest brother. Now, however, he was fully grown and he had accepted Roaveen for who he was. As petty and arrogant as he could be, he was the better warrior, and much more able to lead Salamandastron into battle. And now was not the time for brothers to quarrel.

Korari nodded his head, "Very well."

Roaveen inclined his head to the door, "Hurry. Pick a crew of hares and get the fastest ship north. And bring back the Highland army."

Without bidding his friends a farewell, Korari went down to where the ships were. He took enough supplies to last a week, and picked a score of hares who had learned from travelling sea otters how to operate such a ship. Korari trusted their word on which would be the most seaworthy and swift, and so he set out immediately.

As the mountain faded from view, Korari felt a dark foreboding in his heart. He hoped that when he returned, it would still be standing free.


	42. Chapter 42

41

The Calador and Hunan armies marched out of the former Vireo territory three days after Ibos' death. Ætharr had received word that Cocoran and Blackaxe had been successful against the Alcax forces with light casualty numbers to their side. They would join their allies en route to their next destination.

The land of Vireo had been emptied of its former population, and great swathes of the cultivated land had been laid waste with fire just as the Ealdor had promised he would do in his wrath against the traitorous tribe. Before the great host of soldiers had left, Ætharr had given Ehrlich and his mercenaries their final pay, declaring that they had completed their service admirably.

To reinforce Calador's defences during the campaign, and also with an eye for the harvest season approaching, Ætharr also decided to send two hundred of the fyrd back home. However, even with these reductions, his army was still the mightiest of the allies' forces by far.

And now that they were well supplied, rested, and exultant from their victory in Vireo, the march on Salamandastron began.

"" "" "" """" """ """ """ """

Judos had not willingly spoken to Ætharr since that terrible discovery of the lengths Ætharr would go to get revenge. He had quietly gone to the councils, and he passed on orders from the Ealdor to the lower ranks, but the fact that Ætharr had been prepared to murder children had driven a wedge between Judos and his friend.

Very few found out about what Ætharr had arranged that day. The Calador weasels who had been with Ptolemy and Judos that day near the copse had hung back, confused by Judos' radical actions that day. According to Ptolemy, Ehrlich had made sure that nobody got close enough to see what had been going on after Judos had run off.

Judos only spoke of it to Ben. Despite his own outrage at such a horrid tactic, he feared what speaking of the truth would do to the armies and the alliances themselves. Plus, if Ætharr had been prepared to go that far, how far would he go in silencing a rebellious theign, even if that theign was a dear friend?

Ben had reacted much like how Judos had expected. He had quietly contemplated what Judos told him, expressing disgust, yet a grudging admission that the tactic had worked, and had saved lives, for surely Ætharr must have known that the Vireo forces with Ibos would have given Ibos up?

Judos didn't even care if he was the only one who was completely opposed to the actions. Indeed, on the day that the Calador forces marched out, Judos had been tempted to ask Ætharr to be relieved of his oaths and leave. However, something happened which caused him to change his mind.

It had been after a council of war with the rest of the army's high command. Judos, as he had for the previous days, been silent except when asked by Ætharr to give opinions upon important matters. After all had been resolved, Judos had left the tent in silence, but as he went back to where his division was quartered, someone had called his name.

It was Ædall and Ptolemy. The weasels hurried to catch up to the otter. Judos stood where he was, despite his personal reluctance to hear what they had to say. For he had a good idea of what it would be.

"What is it?" The otter asked in a neutral voice.

Ædall, taller than Judos, looked down at him with an anxious look in his eyes, "Can we talk?"

Judos sighed, "About Ætharr?"

Ptolemy looked around at the assortment of makeshift tents which surrounded them, and looked back at Judos, "Will you go somewhere more quiet?"

Later, a good walk away from the main camp, Ædall addressed Judos, "Before I start, I should tell you that Ætharr didn't ask me to speak to you for 'im."

"It's not like Ætharr to have someone else give his friends important news," Judos said sarcastically.

If this irritated Ædall, the weasel did a good job hiding his irritation. Meanwhile, Ptolemy continued as though Judos hadn't said anything.

"Ætharr did not want to kill all those Vireo civilians. It was a threat that he was using against Ibos, as well as those under his command. He was hoping- no, expecting- that Ibos' soldiers would give him up!"

Judos was shrugged, "And if they hadn't done so? Ætharr wasn't bluffing, he would have slaughtered all those hundreds of innocents because of one creature he was trying to get revenge against."

Ædall looked troubled, and shook his head "No. 'e wouldn't have done that."

"I saw the cage for myself!" Judos said, angrily, "Some weasels had gone out of the way and accidentally found it. Ehrlich was there and he informed me of what was going on. I ran for hours to find you and Ætharr, Ehrlich told me all about the signal they had planned out. If that fire was going to be lit, then they would have put all those prisoners to the sword. That's why Ætharr hired those mercenaries. He didn't want to ask it of any Caladors. He knew that nobody would have had the heart to do it, even if he'd ordered them!"

Ptolemy looked thoughtful suddenly, "How far did you say you were from the camp?"

Judos stared at him, "I don't know! What in the name of Hellgates does it matter?!"

Ptolemy shrugged, "Well, if the main army couldn't see the prison camp from where they were, and if you ran for over a couple of hours like you said, how could the smoke from their fire be noticed, or reach the sight of Ehrlich?"

Judos' mind, so full of rage and indignation, suddenly was filled with doubt. He thought about it, struggling to figure out if it worked, "Well... if the fire was big enough, from where you were... well how do you know?" Judos finished angrily.

Ptolemy shrugged, "I don't know. Science is not my subject. And since the pyre was taken apart when it wasn't needed, we can't test it out for ourselves, can we?"

Judos sighed bitterly, "I suppose I'll get to wonder about that for the rest of my life." Then suddenly he looked up, "What about the cage!"

Ædall frowned, "What about it?"

"Why go through the trouble of capturing so many Vireos and cram them into those conditions for days just for a bluff?"

Ædall shrugged, "Why not? That's what made the bluff work. Actually it was your sudden arrival that really sold it to 'em when we faced them down that day."

"Ehrlich seemed quite convinced that he was following Ætharr's orders! And why else would Ehrlich and his mercenaries have been here unless they were going to do something so terrible that Caladors would have refused?"

Ptolemy thought about it, "But Judos, maybe Ætharr was fooling Ehrlich as well. If he never saw the fire anyway, he wasn't going to harm those creatures. Ætharr might have known that somebody would end up finding the prison camp and so the bluff would seem all the more real if the mercenaries really did believe that they were going to be ordered to kill those civilians."

Judos fumed at the sudden idea that Ætharr really had pulled the biggest practical joke upon the entire population of Vireo, the allied armies, everyone except himself. But then again, the idea that Ætharr had had no intention of killing those civilians filled Judos with a perverse relief.

All the same, he couldn't help but continue to challenge that idea, "Those folk were starving, though!"

"Well aye, but how do you expect us to feed so many of our forces and then those prisoners as well?" Ædall asked, "Besides, we gave 'em rations for their journey out of Vireo. An' we checked out the place, everyone who went into that cage walked out again. Nobody died."

Judos glared at the weasel, "Only because you kept them there for a few days. What if Ibos hadn't marched out? What if he had fled?"

Ptolemy shrugged, "We'll never know, Judos. That's what you have to come to terms with."

Judos knew that Ptolemy was right. He wouldn't be able to prove conclusively if Ætharr had indeed planned to kill all those hundreds of Vireos. It would be an unsolvable mystery, for even if Ætharr told him that he hadn't meant to kill those creature, Judos was not sure if he would believe him anymore. The great change that had overcome Ætharr since his son's death was turning him into somebody different, or so it felt to Judos. The kind and noble weasel that Judos had known for so long certainly had his dark side, but the horror of Ædron's death had left a telling mark on Ætharr's behaviour. And nobody dared to confront him upon it out of fear or sympathy.

The problem was that Judos couldn't quite bring himself to say anything either. He didn't often think about it, but he remembered how Ædron had died, and he couldn't help but agree that Ibos had deserved to be punished, even if the civilians under his rule did not.

And Roaveen, the Badger Lord who had taken Ibos' side to lead raids against Calador and their allies. Roaveen had brought himself into this war, and he would have to face the dreadful consequences of incurring Ætharr's wrath. But, Judos wondered, what would happen if Salamandastron fell?

Even as he thought of that, a call was suddenly heard. All three of the warriors turned and looked, to see a great mass of soldiers approaching, heavy with armour and laden supplies.

Blackaxe and Cocoran had returned.

Ætharr greeted them warmly, and asked how the campaign had gone. It was revealed to all that the Alcax tribe had been defeated, after several furious battles in which it became clear to the Alcax that by sheer numbers alone they were outmatched. After a vicious battle in which Cocoran and Blackaxe had both led their forces, the leader of the Alcax tribe was killed in battle, and his tribe surrendered so that they could be spared their leader's fate. Losses on the allied side had been considerable, but not significant. The greatest loss to their side had been Luther Pelopidas, the leader of the Jeri's Sacred Band and the original Canis of Bellum. He had followed his king to Alcax and had taken part in the fiercest of fighting. It had been he who had killed the Alcax chieftain, but the old marten had died of his wounds on the battlefield. His legendary status in the Jeri clan led to great mourning amongst the Allies.

But now the vermin armies were united once again. And they continued marching upon Salamandastron.

The next day, the mighty peak was visible to the vermin hordes, barely another day's march away. Ætharr ordered that the night would be prolonged for the soldiers to get plenty of sleep, so that a quick march would be ordered to arrive at the mountain before Salamandastron had any time to prepare itself for trouble.

That night, Judos could not sleep. He was thinking of Salamandastron again, and the consequences of what could happen if Ætharr successfully took it.

"What's keeping you awake?"

Judos started. Ben was sitting by the fire, polishing his shillelagh and drinking a tankard of cool water from the nearby spring.

"I'm thinking of how the world will change if Salamandastron fell."

Ben smiled, "Well, it would certainly be a big change."

Judos shook his head, "My whole life, I've heard stories of Salamandastron and all the good it does holding back the legions of searats and corsairs from raiding inland. They always made it seem so noble what the Badger Lords and the fighting hares were doing, in their mountain stronghold. But then I came here, and Roaveen is leading his forces to take a side in a petty tribal war. He takes Ibos as an ally, who is completely treacherous and would certainly be his enemy at any other given time..."

Ben nodded, "Roaveen might be a Badger Lord, but he's definitely got less scruples than those before him."

Judos sighed, "And if he falls, if Salamandastron falls, it will be in the hands of Ætharr and his allies. Vermin everywhere will rejoice that their most powerful enemy will have gone."

"Then again,' Ben allowed, 'I highly doubt Calador allying itself to hordes of savage pirates."

"True,' Judos reluctantly allowed, 'but it's still very murky. It's hard to tell who has the moral high ground here."

Ben shrugged, "It's not always shining heroes and gallant knights, Judos. Sometimes you just have to pick a side. The lesser of two evils."

"And Calador is such an evil for you?" Judos asked.

Ben's smile faded away, "I told you before, Judos, I'm being paid to fight for Calador. Against Salamandastron." He was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking of something that troubled him.

The raccoon then looked up, curious, "You've known him a long time. So answer me this, if Ætharr takes Salamandastron, what will he do next? Will that be sufficient for him?"

Judos thought about it, letting silence hang in the air. The otter thought about all the time he had spent with Ætharr, and all he had learned about his friend. Finally he sighed, "I don't think so. I don't think Ætharr will ever be finished with war or conquest. He was born for war, he was raised by war. It's what he knows best."

Ben impulsive dragged a claw down the handle of his shillelagh, "And tomorrow, that's what we'll be facing."


	43. Chapter 43

42

Leaflock saw them first. He gave a terrified yell, "Attack! Vermin army comin' this way!"

It was an army that had never been seen by Salamandastron before. Thousands of vermin soldiers marching down the shore, displaying their might and sheer numbers. Banners of various colours and sizes flapped in the wind, obscuring the vermin numbers from proper calculation, but it didn't require an expert to determine that this army was vast.

At the front stood a group of vermin that seemed to be the leaders of this mighty horde. As the horde approached Salamandastron one could see that a single weasel was held in higher regard than the rest. He was dressed simply, in armour that seemed almost plain, without cloak or kingly decorations, but all could tell that he was the leader. He carried himself as such, and he carried a large shield, two axes, and a number of throwing hatchets.

Ætharr of Calador had arrived.

Roaveen ordered his hares to stand ready. He and the mountain had been preparing for a few days, and so were not caught completely unawares, but it was still a terrible shock to see so many enemies standing on the beaches of Salamandastron's shore.

From his position on the sand, Ætharr stared up at the mighty volcano. It was an awesome spectacle, a fortress that could withstand time itself. Any who held it would find themselves almost invulnerable to siege.

Ætharr turned to the dozen scouts that had been sent ahead to examine the mountain and its surrounding landscape, "How does it look?"

"No settlements around the mountain, lord. The cliffs are too barren to sustain any forms of life other than mollusks or crabs."

Ætharr nodded, "Any secret passages from the mountain that lead elsewhere?"

"None that we could see, lord, but they probably have a few passages hidden away and guarded."

The Ealdor nodded, and turned to his theigns, "Judos, I want you and your division guarding the cliff tops. Stop anyone who tries to escape the mountain in any way. You'll be my eyes and ears up there, so stay alert."

The otter nodded and went to see to his duty. Ætharr turned to his fellow chiefs, "I suggest that we place a sufficient force on the northern flank of the mountain, while the main force waits here on its southern flank where the main entrance lies. We can each donate a unit of our forces to the cause." He looked at one of his theigns, "Horal, you take your entire division there and follow the orders of whomever we find to command."

Blackaxe nodded in approval, "I shall send Captain Snauw with five hundred Jeri martens."

Cocoran looked at one of his captains, who saluted his chief. Cocoran looked back at his brother-in-law, "I'll send Gallhroan with five hundred of my fighters."

Kazahley raised his paw, "If nobody has any objections, I will offer myself as commander of these forces. I will personally lead three hundred of my troops there and leave my two sons with three hundred each under your command, Ætharr."

Nobody objected, and so the Ealdor nodded, "Thank you, Kazahley." We'll keep contact with you on how we shall attack. It's important for us that we do not make rash decisions. Many have failed to take this mountain. We must make sure that we do not make the same mistakes."

So it was, after a few hours of marching, that two thousand and three hundred vermin stood ready to fight on the mountain's north flank, a thousand stood camped on the cliffs, and fifty-five hundred stood ready to attack Salamandastron from the front.

Roaveen watched these troop movements in horror from his private chamber. He had not imagined that Ætharr, or anyone, could summon so many troops. The hares of Salamandastron, numbering just over two thousand, had always seemed to Roaveen like the mightiest army that existed. Now it seemed that he was proven wrong, and he could barely keep his fear from taking him over.

Ibos had been right. Ætharr was prepared to raze Salamandastron to the ground for revenge, and he had the forces capable to doing it.

However, as Roaveen sought to compose himself, he began to think more rationally. While it was true that the mountain was surrounded, it stood to reason that Salamandastron was very well guarded. They had their own source of fresh water within the mountain, and their food stocks were full. The hares were ready to fight to the death, and despite being outnumbered over four to one, they were still the disciplined fighting hares that made Salamandastron's name feared amongst vermin everywhere.

Roaveen felt confidence and hope surge back into his body, and he went to the Badger Lord's own armoury and forge, where his father had spent so much time. Roaveen donned his battle armour, the armour of a Badger Lord. Taking his sword, freshly sharpened, he looked out of a narrow window to where the main army was standing among the sand dunes and beach.

"Here I am, Calador weasel," Roaveen said, mostly for himself than to actually be heard, "Come and get me!"

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Ætharr immediately sent out foraging parties to scout any sources of food that could be relied on during the siege, and other were sent out to construct fishing boats. After setting up his position on the cliffs, Judos was put in charge of the fishing ships. As an otter, he knew more than most about the matter.

Many times, Ætharr found himself looking up at the mountain, wondering what the hares were planning. He knew that they would have traps and strategies prepared, so he decided to settle into a long siege first. He knew that Salamandastron would be well supplied with food for an attack, so Ætharr decided that he would prepare for the option of starving out the inhabitants of the mountain.

Cocoran, Rosheen's brother, and leader of the Falcarragh, approached him. Like his sister, Cocoran had a thick Falcarragh accent which added an almost musical quality to his words.

"There's plenty o' seabirds an' fish, Ætharr, an' we've all got enuff supplies fer nigh a week if we can spare a few mealtimes."

Ætharr nodded, "Good. We'll need to ration well, and be prepared to fight at a moment's notice. Any sign of potential enemies coming to help the mountain?"

Cocoran shook his head, "There were a few toads on our southern flank but they buggered off when we took notice of 'em."

"Good." Ætharr looked up at Cocoran, "How are your troops?"

Cocoran shrugged, "Well, they've had a good rest, an' they were expectin' to start fightin' immediately."

Ætharr shook his head, "No, not yet. I'm going to hold a council of war first. We'll be sensible on what we're going to do. As soon as Kazahley, Horal, and Judos get here, we'll assemble the other leaders."

So it was that the vermin leaders got together, their forces represented by pebbles on a large map of Salamandastron, hastily drawn by the few scribes that had been brought along.

Ætharr pointed at the collection of pebbles in front of the mountain, "What is tantamount to our plan is that Judos maintains the communication line open between our forces on opposite sides of the mountain. Since he is in charge of the high ground with his division, we can rest safe in that fact."

Judos nodded at the compliment, but he gave no other inclination to what Ætharr had said.

The Ealdor turned to his fellow leaders, "I propose we speak to Roaveen under a flag of truce. He can invite his officers if he wish."

"And we ambush him?" Kazahley's younger son asked, confused.

All looked at him in surprise and some with mild disgust. Kazahley growled, and his son took the hint. He looked around shame-faced, "Forgive me."

Ætharr shook his head, "I will not steal my revenge. I merely want to see what he and his hares are thinking. It will also give us extra time to prepare an attack and spy on their defences."

The imposing Blackaxe, so shrewd as he was strong, spoke up, "As much as it is in our advantage, any delay is useful to our enemies as well. They might have allies marching to aid them, and they will also have time to prepare counterattacks of their own."

"That's an acceptable loss, as far as I'm concerned," Ætharr remarked, "But you raise a good point about those allies, Blackaxe." He looked around, "Do we know of any settlement that could provide sufficient forces to help Salamandastron?"

Nobody spoke up. Judos waited for someone to offer any ideas, but then realized that everyone was looking at him.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Judos spoke up, "Mossflower will hear of this attack, and there are many who would go fight. Redwall and Salamandastron have always been very close allies, but Redwall is a place of peace. Mossflower contains more warlike creatures, but they will not have numbers that can match ours."

Ætharr, who had already known those facts, nodded, "Good."

Ptolemy suddenly raised a paw, "My lords, I must ask, is it so wise to divide our forces in case allies of the mountain do arrive?"

"You heard Judos, no reinforcements could match ours in numbers. And besides, it means that they have to guard all three of their flanks, so it does," Cocoran replied.

"Numbers are not everything," Ætharr allowed, "But we shall nevertheless guard our flanks carefully so that we're prepared for any sneak attacks, however small."

The rest of the meeting was carried out quickly enough. Everything had been set up, and the soldiers knew what was expected of them. All were in agreement over the plans.

"And now," Ætharr said, "Let's see if Roaveen has the courage to talk with warriors."

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In the mountain, the council of war was interrupted by the sight of a lone vermin approaching the mountain, waving a white flag. Roaveen and his officers went down to the main gate to see what this was all about.

As they went along, Roaveen gave the orders, "Brigadier Baliol, Major Krieg, Captain Ormond and Captain Sophus will accompany me to see what this vermin wants. The rest of you stand ready in case something happens." The other officers, knowing that Roaveen had specifically excluded them in favour of his preferred officers, bit back any resentment. There were far more important things to worry about.

The reinforced gates were pulled open, and the Badger Lord stepped out to address this white flag of parley. Roaveen looked impressive in his shining armour, and his officers of the Mountain Regiment and Long Patrol stood tall with him.

The weasel in front of them gripped the spear he held, clearly hoping that the white flag would save him from a quick death. Roaveen knew that his hares were standing ready at the windows, arrows ready to fire. A large troop of hares also stood ready by the gate to charge out if needed. He smiled and stepped forward.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The weasel spoke in a refined manner that surprised many of the hares who had not interacted with a Calador weasel before, "My name is Ptolemy, son of Porus. I'm a theign of Calador, serving none but Lord Ætharr of Calador. He wishes to speak to you, Badger Lord. Your officers are welcome to join you, and you are assured of your safety." He gestured over to where a group of other vermin were standing in the distance.

"An' I suppose we're meant te take your word on that?" Colonel Seahawk remarked contemptuously.

Ptolemy nodded, "I'm to accompany you there. As you can see, I'm unarmed except for this token of peace. If it's a trap, my life is forfeit."

Roaveen nodded, "So be it, weasel."

When the group got to the meeting spot, Ætharr gave a curt nod in greeting to the Badger Lord, who returned the gesture with equal reluctance to show courtesy. The hares said nothing, merely returning the glances they received from the vermin chiefs.

Ætharr turned and indicated his companions, "This is King Blackaxe of the Jeri tribe, Lord Kazahley of the Hunan, and King Cocoran of the Falcarragh. They are my allies in this endeavour."

Roaveen nodded again, but something about his gesture implied a contemptuous apathy for such formalities. He cut straight to the point, "You have prepared yourselves to fight us. And now you claim to talk of peace?"

"No peace just yet," Ætharr replied. He was shorter than the badger and hares, but he nevertheless radiated an aura of danger if he were provoked.

"So why waste our time?" Roaveen asked.

"I merely wish to make you an offer. I made the same offer to Ibos, so I figured that I might as well do so for one who is, if nothing else, a proper warrior or so I'm told."

The insult, buried in the appearance of a compliment, was noted by all within earshot. Roaveen's expression darkened, and his voice lowered to a growl, "And what offer might that be?"

Ætharr's eyes shone with malice, "Surrender yourself, Roaveen, and I will spare your hares. I'll let them march away unharmed, so long as you give yourself to me, and if they leave this mountain to us."

The very idea of this left the hares stunned, and Roaveen's anger gave way to astonished amusement, "You expect us to agree with those terms?"

The weasel shrugged, "I'll even offer you a fair duel to the death if you wish. But that said, I did not necessarily mean for you to agree with those terms."

Roaveen looked confused, and then what the Ealdor had implied slowly dawned on him. He turned to look at his hares, who merely looked from their lord to Ætharr.

Ætharr blatantly ignored Roaveen's presence as he addressed the four hares, "You would die for one who conspires with child killers and cowards? Is that what Salamandastron stands for? If this so called Badger Lord will not fight me properly and die like his grandsires, I offer you and the other hares to deliver him to me. Your lives will be spared and you may walk away from here knowing that you saved thousands of lives."

The hares did not even wait to give their answers.

"Aye, saving thousands, that's a bally good one comin' from you, weasel!"

"You're the one who brought yer army here, wot! Why don't you save thousands of lives and leave?"

"We refuse your scandalous demands, you autocratic cur!"

"The Long Patrol and Mountain Regiment for Salamandastron and Lord Roaveen!"

With that, all four suddenly yelled out the ancient battle cry of the mountain,

"Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Their voices carried so that, almost as though they had been expecting such a signal, the hares inside Salamandastron began yelling the same war cry, so that all the vermin surrounding the mountain could hear the full-throated challenge issued from Salamandastron's army.

Roaveen smiled coldly at Ætharr, "If you thought that we would crumble as easily as the Vireo tribe did, then you're sadly mistaken, weasel."

Ætharr did not return the smile, "It's a shame that you proved to be a coward, Roaveen. I was curious for the experience to fight a true badger warrior."

Roaveen, stung by the insult, turned on his heel and walked away, followed by his hares. As he turned to leave, Roaveen offered a parting shot, "If you're such a warrior, meet us in battle instead of offering child's threats!"

Ætharr suddenly called after him, "You have no right to speak of children, coward! I will avenge mine before I return home, I swear by all the gods!"


	44. Chapter 44

**43  
**

After Roaveen and his officers returned to the mountain, Ætharr turned to his allies, "I'm going to go see how the siege weapons are coming along."

With the added time for preparations, they were almost all complete. Ladders, grappling hooks, and an armoured battering ram awaited the inspection of the leaders. Kazahley took a portion with him to the other side of the mountain, while Judos was told to leave his division on the cliffs to hold the communication lines open at all costs. Meanwhile, the otter theign would help attack the mountain, as an experienced warrior that he was, under Kazahley's command. The otter was joined by Ben, who was also sent by Ætharr to assist Kazahley.

Inwardly, Ætharr knew that this attack would be a new experience for him. It had been a long time since Ætharr had led a siege, and that one had been assisted by traitors within the fort opening the door for them. He would much have preferred an open battle, but Roaveen was refusing to be baited so easily.

It was decided that Ætharr would lead a frontal attack on the mountain's main gate, Blackaxe would form a right hook to scale the mountainside, and Cocoran would do the same thing on the left flank of Ætharr's forces. Kazahley would attack as he saw fit on his side of the mountain, while Kazahley's two sons were placed under Ætharr's command with the rest of the Hunan army.

Once everyone was in position, Ætharr nodded towards one of his soldiers carrying a horn. Raising the horn to his mouth, the bugler sounded a loud call to arms for the battlefield to hear.

Ætharr threw back his head and yelled out, "Advance!"

His troops gave a mighty cheer as they started marching. The Calador troops all carried their large shields, as they had been warned of the long arrows that Salamandastron hares could fire.

Ætharr's group was in charge of the battering ram, and it had been covered with a wooden roof to prevent arrows from decimating the ramming crew. The wood had also been covered with a wet tent cover to prevent it from catching fire.

As he marched closer to the mountain, Ætharr turned to Gyras, his most warlike theign, "Make sure the archers aim carefully, no waste of arrows! I'd rather they take their time and aim properly than shoot wild."

Gyras nodded, "They'll be sure to know, Ealdor!" He turned and passed the order to two of his lieutenants, who ran back to pass the word on to the archers amongst the Calador soldiers.

The Ealdor looked to his left and right, watching Blackaxe and Cocoran go their separate ways in the pincer movement. With Kazahley advancing on the other side, the hares would be hard pressed to defend the mountain.

As they got into the hares' range, arrows began to fly towards the soldiers. Ætharr, marching in front, ducked from an arrow that nearly took him in the eye. A savage rage was building within him. He hated arrows.

"Shields up!" He roared as he lifted his own shield above his head. He felt two points sink deep into the wood, and he was astonished at the strength behind such arrows as the hares shot. Behind him, he heard screams as some of the arrows met their mark.

Still they marched forward, following the armoured battering ram, its roof already sticking with so many arrows that it was a pincushion.

When it was determined that they were in range, Gyras confirmed it to Ætharr.

Ætharr threw back his head and yelled again, "Halt! Set up the barricade!"

It was a code for their next formation. In one vast movement, the front ranks of the Calador block set up a testudo formation with their shields, covering themselves with their shields on the sides and top of their heads. The back ranks made a massive about face, scanning the landscape around and behind them for any hint of ambush. Ætharr took his place in the front line, standing in between Gyras and Ædall.

Occasionally, the shields would open at random points for archers and slingers to return fire with the Salamandastron hares, though it was difficult to ascertain how successful they were. The mountain's windows were often narrow, perfect for a defence.

Meanwhile, the battering ram lurched forward, despite arrows hitting it. The roof over the ram was doing its work, even as the crew had a hard time pushing the wheeled siege equipment forward in the sand.

At last, they reached their destination, and the ram began to strike the large gates of Salamandastron. The hard thuds could be heard by the front ranks even as they were hard pressed by the arrows flying towards them.

Ætharr flinched as an arrow's point suddenly appeared to just pierce the wood of his shield. He turned to Gyras, "Any word on the others?"

Gyras and Ædall turned and passed the word on to the next soldiers in line, until the message reached the soldiers standing on edges of the great Calador block. They peered out to see what their allies were up to.

The word came back as fast as it could. Ædall turned to his cousin, "Blackaxe is meeting lots of opposition but he's returning fire. He's also got his soldiers creating barricades on the beach."

Gyras spoke up on Ætharr's other side, "Cocoran's first wave got hit by a minor rock slide. A few dozen dead, but Cocoran was able to get more to safety before they were killed, so they're resuming the attack!"

Ætharr nodded, "If it continues to be that bad, I want you to lead half your division to help Cocoran out, Gyras. On my command." The theign nodded, cursing briefly as an arrow hit his shield and forced him to regain his balance.

Ætharr frowned, "That wasn't a hare's arrow."

"The Badger Lord is an adequate archer, or so it seems." Ædall remarked dryly. This got a chuckle from those around him, even as they held their shields up.

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Roaveen moved to the side as a lucky arrow shot through his window. It clattered harmlessly against the stone corridor.

The Badger Lord grimaced as he fired another arrow at the great mass of Calador shields which seemed to taunt the defenders to waste arrows against them. Roaveen did not call off the attack, however. He knew that his warriors were well supplied, and there were many keen-eyed hares in the mountain.

Colonel Seahawk suddenly approached the Badger Lord, "We've got vermin with ladders on three sides trying to get access, milord. We're holden' the blighters off for now, but there's plenty where they come from."

Roaveen nodded, "Prepare the oil. and when I give the command, be prepared to use it."

Seahawk saluted and headed off.

Elsewhere, Ormond and Sophus were busy holding back the forces on the vermin army's right flank. Large vermin that were much larger than weasels or ferrets were scaling the mountain, snarling viciously and yelling like demons. A few ladders were in place, allowing for dozens to start climbing as fast as they could. They held up small shields to prevent being shot, though many still fell with arrows piercing their armour and flesh.

Ormond yelled out as he struck at an enemy soldier with his sword, "What in the blazin' hell are these bally vermin called?"

Sophus ducked from an arrow as he threw a javelin at the next in line to his window, "I do believe they're called martens, my friend."

Ormond grimaced as a hare beside him was hit with a slingstone and crumpled to the floor in a heap, "Well, whatever they're called, they'll not get past us while we're still breathin' wot!"

Sophus would have smiled, but he was forced to engage one of the martens with his pike.

A group of Mountain Regiment hares ran up with more arrows and slingstones. Seeing that Sophus and Ormond were hard pressed, they rushed forward to join them.

Ormond glanced at one of the reinforcements, "What's goin' on everywhere else?"

The recruit shrugged her shoulders, "All we know is that the defences are holdin', but the batterin' ram's doing it's work bally well!"

Sophus cursed, "Well, what sort of counter-offensive has been prepared?"

"Not sure, Capn', but Major Krieg said that it's being prepared quickly!"

Beside Ormond, a recruit that was scarcely older than a leveret launched a stone from his sling, only to be pierced with an arrow from below. Ormond stared grimly as the young hare fell without a sound, "Not quickly enough, if y'ask me."

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On the other side of the mountain, Judos stood with Ben and Horal, organizing a similar testudo formation amongst their Calador units. Kazahley ordered his three hundred Hunan soldiers, mostly archers and slingers, to take shelter beneath the Calador shields as they returned fire. Other Calador troops were joining the large Jeri martens and the wilder Falcarragh troops to try scaling the mountain's slope. Arrows whizzed out at them, killing or wounding many in the process. However, by Kazahley's reckoning, they were keeping the hares busy with their own volleys.

Judos grimaced as another arrow hit his shield. His sword was still sheathed, as he gripped his shield with both paws. Beside him, a Calador weasel lowered his shield for a Hunan archer to fire, only to be hit with a Salamandastron arrow in his skull.

Ben flinched as an arrow struck his shield again, "I can't see how the attack is going."

Judos lifted his shield a fraction to take a peek, "There's lots of Jeri martens climbing the rock face with grappling hooks and five of our ladders are standing."

Ben nodded, "And how are they going?"

"Not good,' Judos replied, "The hares are fighting well." He cursed as an arrow struck his shield again. He looked again, "It's a stalemate for now, and we're losing good fighters quickly."

Ben glanced around at the forces surrounding them, "This stalemate could hold for days, Judos. We've still got the advantage here."

The otter sighed. So many were going to die here. The otter hoped that he wouldn't be one of them.

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Back at the main gate, Ætharr sent out a new battering ram crew to replace those currently there. In a slow advancement, the new group went to the battering ram under cover of a miniature testudo by several other soldiers helping them. As the new crew darted from the shields to the roof of the battering ram, the old crew ran in the opposite direction. Despite the arrows hitting the shields, the testudo formation held firm and they slowly moved back to the main block of Calador's forces.

Ætharr, in true fashion, had been one of those assisting the crews there and back. When the old crew was safely recovered, he addressed them all as one while holding his shield, "Good work, troops! You've done a fine job for today. Head out of range and get some rest in the back ranks!"

The foreman of the crew spoke up, "Ealdor, if we keep batterin' at the rate we were goin', the doors should be down soon either today or early tomorrer."

Ætharr nodded, "Excellent."

When they got back to the main army, the old crew wearily moved through the forest of their companions to get out of range, all the while being congratulated by their friends standing in rank.

Ætharr turned to Ædall and Gyras, "What news from our flanks?"

"Still a stalemate. They're pressing hard and inflicting casualties, but the hares are defending too well."

Ætharr shrugged, "I would have been surprised if we took Salamandastron on the first day."

Ædall looked at his cousin with a puzzled look on his face, "So what do we do now?"

The Ealdor looked back at the gate, where thuds continued to sound as the new crew put their all into the destruction of the main gates.

He looked at Ædall, "As soon as that ram breaks through, we charge, and Roaveen will be forced to take us on with as many of his forces as he can. That'll distract them enough for our allies to break through. He looked at Gyras again, "Any word from Kazahley, Horal, and Judos?"

"None, Ealdor," Gyras replied.

Ætharr frowned, but accepted that inevitability with a curt nod. He resumed his attention on deflecting arrows.

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Roaveen took careful aim with his immense longbow. He so desperately wanted to kill Ætharr, and he knew that the weasel would be leading his forces from the front. The shields prevented him from finding the Ealdor in the great sea of his forces, however.

Once again, he was awed by the amount of troops that had been assembled. He had little idea of how his hares were doing on the other side of the mountain, or even on the flanks, but he knew that they were still fighting at least, or else he would have heard some kind of alarm.

The few hares gathered nearby him were hard pressed. They were directly above the main gate, and they often looked down to see the ram constantly hammering away at the gate. It was slow, but steady work for the invaders, and Roaveen knew that he had to stop it above anything else.

Grabbing a nearby hare on the shoulder, Roaveen turned him to face his commander, "Where in Hellgates is that oil and pitch? Tell Seahawk that we need it right now!"

"Aye, lord!" the hare sped off down the corridor.

Roaveen turned back to his window, even as two lucky arrows shot through the slit. Roaveen grimaced as he returned the compliment. He was relieved to hear a scream follow with his shot.

He heard rapid footsteps approaching his position. Turning around, he saw that it was Lt. Col. Jackers. Blood trickled down one side of his face, and there was blood on his drawn sabre.

Roaveen noted the wound, "Not serious, Lt. Col.?"

Jackers shook his head grimly, "I've had far worse, sah. I just came to report that the other side of the mountain is holdin' against their attacks for now. But we're taking casualties."

"Too many?" Roaveen asked.

Jackers shook his head, "We can manage for now, but they outnumber us."

Roaveen sighed angrily, "I'm doing my best, Jackers! Have your hares traded off and given a rest and have some reinforcements replace them!"

Jackers saluted, and headed off.

Roaveen cursed as he fired off another arrow. He thought of Ætharr's offer. He had offered Roaveen the chance to fight him in single combat and give up the mountain, at the price of sparing his followers. Roaveen didn't trust Ætharr to hold his word that the hares would be able to leave free. It was certainly going to be a trap. And besides, Roaveen would go down as the Badger Lord who had lost Salamandastron. Roaveen dared not let that be part of his legacy. He'd rather die upright, fighting to the last.

Suddenly, there was a cry echoing through the halls, calling Roaveen's name.

Turning around quickly, Roaveen saw that the messenger had returned. A smile nearly split the hare's face in half, "It's ready, sah! Being distributed now as we speak!"

Roaveen sighed with relief, "Good. When's our batch coming?"

"It's coming behind me, sah!"

The badger smiled, "Good."

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Judos ordered another twenty Calador soldiers forward to scale one of the ladders. The hares had not lost any of their energy in their fight, despite the fight having gone on for quite some time. Judos noticed that the sun had begun lowering towards the ocean's horizon.

Turning back to the battle, Judos noticed Kazahley advancing up to the front ranks, with an escort of his fiercest Hunan soldiers providing cover.

"Where are you going, sir?" Judos called to him.

Kazahley stared at him in surprise, "Where do you think? I'm going to lead this attack myself!"

Judos looked at the old polecat, and knew that only one result would stem from this, "It's still dangerous, Lord Kazahley. You would do better to wait until a proper footing is established."

Kazahley sneered, "You hang back if you want, but I'm going to claim the glory that is rightfully mine!" He pressed forward, his soldiers protecting him from further arrows.

"Old fool," Ben cursed under his breath as he watched Kazahley go forward.

Judos looked at the raccoon, "What are we going to do?"

Ben defiantly leaned on his shillelagh, "Nothing. Let him die if that's what he seeks. I'm sure his people will be writing songs about the great Hunan leader who died on the slopes of Salamandastron."

Judos sighed. It would be stupid for the highest ranking officers to take the attack head on, however brave it would look to some. And besides, the otter had no stomach to climb those ladders today. Neither did Ben apparently, but Judos just assumed that it related to his not wanting to risk death until there were better odds available.

Suddenly, there was a chorus of screams. Looking up, Judos saw that hares had thrown buckets of black liquid down the slopes where vermin were attempting to climb the mountain. The ladders, as well as the vermin near the top of them, were drenched with the material too, and this caused them to wail with pain.

On the other side of the mountain, Ætharr saw the same thing happening to the flank attackers. Dozens of vermin fell from ladders and ropes, clawing at the pitch that had splashed onto their heads and bodies. The battering ram was also drenched with the material, and the thuds ceased as the crew was distracted by the pitch and oil. Chills ran through the weasel when he realized what was going to happen next.

Up on his position over the main gate, Roaveen smiled as he gave the command in a booming voice that echoed across the mountain.

"Launch fire arrows! Eeeeeulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa!"

He himself released a fire arrow directly against the battering ram.

All across the mountain, fire arrows were sent out against those who had been struck with pitch.

The flames lit the mountain up even as the sun had begun setting.

Ætharr cursed in rage as he watched vermin writhe in throes of death as their bodies were lit on fire. The ladders creaked and groaned as flames burned away, until their remains were abandoned where they stood. The battering ram was engulfed, the protective shell now ensuring that the entire crew would be roasted alive in seconds.

Both flanks began a steady retreat from the mountain, making sure to maintain the shield defence in order to spare more vermin from dying. Battle cries from within the mountain began to ring out in triumph, for they knew that they had won the first day of the siege.

Ætharr had known that it would not be this easy, but it still hurt to see creatures die so cruelly. He could, however, do little more than gnash his teeth and snarl.

On the other side of the mountain, Judos stared, aghast, as the pitch was lit, only for it to envelop dozens in flames. Kazahley had been climbing one of the ladders, and he had avoided being sprayed with pitch. However, as he struggled to hold onto the collapsing bridge, one of the immolated soldiers from further up on the mountain fell on top of him, knocking him from his position. Judos shut his eyes to avoid watching the old polecat hit the ground.

Judos looked at Horal, who was also staring in shock at what Salamandastron had prepared, "We're in command, now that Kazahley has died."

Horal registered Judos for a second or two, slowly coming to terms with what was going on. Then he nodded quickly, "I propose we withdraw for now. Send word to Ætharr for further instructions!"

Ben ducked an arrow as he glared at the pitch burning away on the side of the mountain. He seemed lost in a flashback, his paw tightly gripping the handle of his weapon.

Judos ran over to him and roughly thumped his shoulder to snap him back to reality, "Ben! Come on, we have to get out of range!"

Ben, just like Horal, needed a moment before he agreed and hurried along, Judos providing both of them his shield as protection from arrows.

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Ætharr heard the cheers and laughter from within Salamandastron, and it cut into his pride. The weasel could scarcely speak due to his own anger at being out-manoeuvred.

However, as he stared at the battering ram, he realized that there was one way to pay Roaveen back.

Even as his forces slowly began retreating out of range, the Ealdor threw back his head and yelled, "Forty fighters to me!" Without waiting to see who volunteered, the Ealdor suddenly ran forward, his hand axe in one paw, his shield over his head to deflect arrows.

Ædall stared at his cousin, shocked at the sudden idea that Ætharr had lost his mind, "Ætharr!" The large weasel ran forward, followed by a number of nearby Caladors who saw it their duty to accompany the blood relative of the Ealdor.

Ptolemy, Craterus, and Gyras, also seeing their Ealdor and friend rushing forward towards the mountain, yelled out war cries and hastened to match their lord in distance. Behind them, groups of Caladors were inspired to follow, out of duty or bravery or the mere desire to take revenge for this humiliation.

Ætharr arrived to where the battering ram was in flames, just by the gate. Growling from effort, Ætharr began hacking at the damaged gate with his axe.

Ædall approached, holding his massive battleaxe, "Cousin! Are you insane?! What are you doing?!"

Ætharr turned to look at Ædall, "Hack away part of this gate! I'm going to salvage something from this day!"

"But Ætharr," Ædall initially protested, "They may have more..."

"Do it!" Ætharr roared.

Ædall paused, unsure of what to do for the moment. However, he decided that he had followed his cousin so far in his life, that he would not break that streak now. Turning, he began hacking away at the most damaged portion of the gates, ducking arrows launched against him. It helped that the fire's smoke was partially blinding the archers further up the mountain.

The three theigns with Ætharr hurried forward, with their dozens of Calador soldiers in tow.

"What's going on?" Ptolemy shouted.

Ætharr pointed to the massive battering ram, still burning heartily, "We're going to burn the gates down with their own secret weapon!"

Gyras grinned broadly, baring his teeth in anticipation. Craterus turned and began organizing the troops to bring up pikes to be used as poles.

Ætharr turned back to the gate. It had held out very well despite the onslaught, but there were parts that had broken inward. Ætharr and Ædall's axes had exploited that advantage, making the gaps bigger.

The platoons of Caladors began pushing the siege weapon forward, placing their poles on the burning back of the battering ram and exerting all their strength in a forward push. Ætharr and Craterus grabbed such poles, as did Ædall after getting out of the way. Soon, over thirty Calador weasels were applying their combined force into the movement of the ram. Occasionally, an arrow would attempt to strike them, but thankfully, the smoke was working in their favour.

Finally, the ram was budged forward until the flames which burned so fiercely began to lick their way up the gates.

Ætharr gave an exultant roar as he watched the fire do its work against the gates, albeit slowly. Nevertheless, he had justified the losses of his troops and allies if it meant that they would be closer to conquering the mountain.

"Pull back, lads! Roaveen can worry about this tonight." Laughing, he and the others hurried back, to the main force. Now was the time for rest and treating wounds. Tomorrow would be another day.


	45. Chapter 45

44

Judos passed on the word of casualties, as well as the use of pitch and fire, back to the main army group.

What was especially bitter was the death of Kazahley in the fight for the mountain. Ætharr offered his condolences to the Hunan soldiers, assuring them that their leader had been very brave, and had died in honourable battle against the mightiest of foes. Kazahley's eldest son, Khazdar, was declared the new leader of the Hunan tribe, and he repeated the oaths of loyalty and allegiance that his father and uncle had sworn so long ago.

Blackaxe and Cocoran had survived the assaults, thankfully, though they each lost upwards of fourscore troops in the first day, the highest amongst the allies. Salamandastron casualties could not be properly determined or guessed.

Meanwhile, the battering ram had continued to burn throughout the night, thanks to Roaveen's use of pitch. It was so far unclear how much damage it was doing to the gate, but Ætharr knew that it would be a weak spot in the mountain's defences.

As the new day rose, the rose-tinted sunlight shone over a mountain that had been blackened by fire, and the corpses of those who had fallen were oblivious to the beautiful morning.

Judos got up early and watched the sun rise in the east, continuing to observe it creep over the trees that grew to the east of Salamandastron. The sky slowly transformed its hue to make a deep, cloudless blue over the land and sea. Such a beautiful day, Judos thought fleetingly, but then he turned to look at Salamandastron, and he felt his mood sink. The magnificence was wasted at this place of war and death.

From his vantage point on the cliffs, Judos turned to look at where Ætharr had his tent. The otter felt a bitterness for his friend. He would not abandon him in this fight, but he could not completely justify it in his mind.

He would have contemplated about this longer, but he had duties as a theign to look after. Primarily, the task of collecting food for the vast army.

As an otter, Judos was the best candidate for this task, and he had thus organized the construction of many fishing boats to take out into the sea. Because the inhabitants of Salamandastron were most likely not partial to fish, or any kind of meat for that matter, Judos reckoned that the waters by Salamandastron would be teaming with fish. Certainly the amount of seabirds on the shore was a good sign.

Of course, the birds had quickly learned to stay away from the range of the vermin horde's arrows. Several were downed, with their meat being salted and stored for later. The supplies that the army had brought with them would last a few more days, but the commanders did not want to wait until those supplies ran out before searching for alternative sources.

So Judos was put in charge of over a hundred craft that was commandeered by creatures mostly used to lakes or rivers for their fishing rather than the ocean. The choppy waves led to a few boats being tipped even before the nets were cast. Luckily the boat crews were comprised only of creatures who could swim, so there were no casualties.

Judos would occasionally dive into the water for himself, swimming like only an otter was able to do. The salt water took some getting used to, but the fish he caught certainly made the ventures worthwhile. Around him, the different tribes worked together to collect food for each other.

The nice day allowed for the crews to work in peace, with many glances often being made in the direction of the mountain, wondering if the assault was being renewed. They heard nothing, so they were either too far out to notice, or there was no attack against the mountain.

Judos tried to focus on the task at hand of collecting a sizable amount of fish. He had been correct in his assumption: there were plenty of fish in the sea.

Casting a net, a Calador weasel in Judos' boat grinned at Judos, "No worries about us starving, theign?"

Judos shrugged, "There are several other things left to worry about, though." He nodded in direction of Salamandastron.

The weasel nodded sagely, "Aye, well, we'll see what happens now. I got look at the gate this morning. Half of it was charred black. There's no way it'll hold against a proper assault."

Judos sighed, "I'd rather just focus on catching fish for now. And tell that lad at the helm to not collide us with that boat over there." The young Calador nodded and hurried off after his net was secure. Judos glanced as half the boats, full of fish, headed off to shore to deliver their catch ashore in order to empty their nets.

He sighed, and dove into the water again.

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Meanwhile, in the mountain, things were growing very dangerous for the hares.

Roaveen was pleased to hear that casualties had been greater amongst the invaders than with his own forces, though he was still outnumbered. And there was no word or sign of reinforcements or help. Roaveen knew that they would simply have to hold the enemy back for as long as they could.

As a rationed breakfast was served amongst the hares, Sophus and Ormond sat away from the rest, speaking to Seahawk, and Jackers.

"They're savage fighters, I'll give 'em that," Ormond mused as he took another bite of nodded morosely.

"I say, these vermin ain't your average maraudin' coward. These creatures are organized an' disciplined," Jackers commented. It was extraordinary for the old hare to compliment the fighting capabilities of his enemies, and the impact of that judgment left the other quiet for a moment.

Seahawk looked at the two young officers, "What exactly is this Ætharr like?"

Ormond glanced at Sophus, before answering, "He seemed like 'e was the one in command of everyone, even those two kings 'e named as being his allies."

"We're fightin' the Ealdor, and two kings, eh?" Jackers chuckled

Sophus sighed, "This Ætharr chap is dangerous, and he won't stop until he's taken his revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Seahawk frowned.

Sophus thought about it, but was unable to give a good answer, "In all honesty, I'm not that sure. He mentioned that Roaveen was an ally of child-killers and cowards."

Jackers glared briefly at that insult towards a Badger Lord, but then he thought of what Sophus had said, "What did you do in those Vireo lands?"

"We fought for Roaveen, as we always have," Ormond remarked defensively. He had noticed a challenging note in the Lietenant Colonel's voice.

Seahawk had noticed it too, and hastened to make amends, "Nobody's accusin' anyone of anything here, chaps. Just tryin' to figure out what Ætharr's doin' here, because it's not just for taking our mountain."

Ormond shrugged, "I never liked the Vireo tribe. I can understand Lord Roaveen using them to help us defeat the bigger enemies, but it still didn't sit right."

Seahawk sighed, "I hate to say it, but Lord Roaveen lacks scruples. If he did ally us with a tribe that killed a child o' this Ætharr here, then..." He found himself unable to finish. Even if he disliked Roaveen, he could not go that far in his criticism of a Salamandastron Badger Lord. It was against everything he had lived his long life for.

Sophus noticed the conflicted emotions in the old Colonel's face and pointedly looked away out of courtesy. Ormond and Jackers felt the same way.

The silence was suddenly broken by a shout, "Attack! We're under attack!"

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With Judos taking care of food supplies, Ætharr brought his division down from the cliffs. He replaced them with Horal and nine hundred of the ablest Calador soldiers that could be spared, leaving Ben to command the Calador units on the mountain's opposite side. With Kazahley dead, Khazdar was now in charge of that division, though his Hunan soldiers remained, for the most part, with Ætharr.

Gyras, Craterus, Ædall, and Ptolemy arranged their divisions to prepare an advance march. This would be an assault upon the gates, with less attention to the mountain slope. Cocoran led his Falcarragh warriors as usual, while Blackaxe had brought Jager and Snauw, his best captains, to the front of the mountain for this assault. The allied division at the mountain's north flank would maintain a fierce but cautious assault, drawing hares away from the front side of Salamandastron.

This diversion, in question, had already begun its assault upon the mountain. Equipped with new ladders and grappling hooks, Khazdar led the attack with all the vigour and rage of one who is young and seeks to avenge his father. Ben held the spot of lookout officer, assigning reinforcements where they would be needed.

Once again, the hares were at the ready, firing long arrows down at the attackers as they hurried forward. Shields were held up to avoid the deadly missiles, even as Khazdar bade them forward.

The young polecat was tall and strong, bold to the point of near suicide. He had not put on a helmet, nor did he carry a shield. He wanted to set an example as the new leader of the Hunan, and he would win glory today. In a haunting imitation of his father, he began scaling a ladder that was placed on the mountain slope and held steady by several others.

Khazdar's charge comprised of mainly Hunan soldiers, but with a good scattering of the other tribes. It was the younger soldiers that followed him eagerly, admiring of this bravery.

Ben held the majority back, for fear of more pitch being used against them. He gripped his shillelagh as he ducked a slingstone. The assault was proceeding as had been done before. The charred remains of those who had died the day before were chilling reminders of what had occurred. This did not deter anyone, however, and the main body of forces advanced slowly towards the mountain.

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This time, Sophus and Ormond were in charge of holding back the diversion on the far side of the mountain, and they knew that it would be a grim time of it. Roaveen, in concern for the frontal assault led by Ætharr, had left his captains with a reduced garrison. It meant that each hare would have to fight all the more fiercely, something that every one of them was prepared to do.

Ormond and Sophus certainly provided an example. It was they who launched the first arrows, and when the first grappling hooks and ladders emerged, it was they who drew their melee weapons and prepared to defend Salamandastron with their lives.

The biggest ladder reached a small plateau outside one of their windows. Looking out, Ormond saw that many vermin were climbing up to gain a footing with which to break an opening into the mountain itself.

Turning to Sophus, Ormond yelled, "We need to stop 'em out there!"

Sophus looked as well, and after a pause, he nodded, "I'm with you, friend!"

The two of them climbed out of the mountain corridor, standing out on the flat ground side by side. Swords drawn, they kept their eyes on the few missiles that were flying towards the mountain.

They could see that a large polecat was leading the charge up the ladder. Behind him were several polecats, as well as a couple of Jeri martens and a few of those larger Calador weasels.

The lead polecat saw the two hares waiting at the top of the ladder and gave a yell, "Death to Salamandastroooon!"

"Eulaliaaaaaaaa!" was the response he received from both hares.

Behind him, a young Calador weasel called out, "Move to the left, Lord Khazdar!"

Khazdar paused but decided to do so. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a throwing axe hurl upwards towards the hares. Both dodged, giving Khazdar an opening to climb up to the slope.

"Come on!" he yelled, and hurried up the final bits of distance. Drawing his short sword, Khazdar leaped up and slashed at the nearest of the hares.

Ormond jumped back to avoid the blade slashing his feet. Beside him, Sophus lunged with his own sword, only for it to be parried by the axe of the Calador weasel who had rapidly followed Khazdar up to the plateau.

Khazdar snarled as he stood between the two hares, slashing his blade at Ormond, "I'll turn that other eye red afore I'm done with ye!"

Ormond smiled coldly, "Do y'worst, polecat!"

Both swung their swords at each other, the sound of clashing metal filling their ears.

Not a pace away from them, Sophus and the young Calador weasel fought fiercely, the weasel wielding a bearded axe similar to one of Ætharr's weapons as well as a long dagger.

A cry went up amongst the allied soldiers down below, "Look! Khazdar's made a footing!"

Ben stared upwards to see what they were talking about. Sure enough, the polecat was holding his own against a hare. The raccoon also noticed that a Calador weasel was fighting up there. Suddenly, with a jolt, Ben realized that he knew the weasel.

It was Antigonus, son of Agricola. One of the students who had made up Judos' first class and who had helped save Ben's life in battle the day that Ætharr's son had died.

Antigonus, meanwhile, was fighting as hard as he'd ever fought. He had spent a lot of time learning about war under the supervision of the theign Craterus. Aside from the siege of the fort on Calador's border, however, this fight at Salamandastron was his first time experiencing combat.

It began to show as he fought the adult hare in front of him. He had put up a brave start, and his energy allowed him a fighting chance, but the Salamandastron hare was far more experienced. Soon, the hare began pushing him to the edge of the plateau. The fact that more vermin were climbing up the ladder would not help Antigonus in time.

Ben watched on as Antigonus was pushed back. He remembered what he had told the young weasel that day. _Well, Antigonus, my name is Benjamin, and from now on, consider me a friend. I hope I'm able to pay you back for your kindness one day._

Now, it seemed, was that day.

Running forward, the raccoon lost any thought of risk to his own life in his determination to do right by his conscience.

Grabbing a length of grappling rope, Ben dodged arrows shot at him as he began climbing up the mountainside. Being more accustomed to climbing than the others, the raccoon made quick progress where others had needed rope or a ladder.

Ben kept his eye on Antigonus. The weasel was still fighting. Ben hoped that he wouldn't be too late.

Taking a moment to carefully position his grappling hook, the raccoon put all his strength into one throw. The hook soared upward, past the ledge on which the fighting was taking place. It wedged itself where bit of rock had jutted out from the slope, just as Ben had planned.

However, on the ledge, things had turned against Antigonus. He saw Khazdar suddenly fall to a slash from Ormond's sword, and knew that he was in trouble. He redoubled his efforts to kill this hare, but it was not working. Ducking another swing from the weasel's axe, Sophus had seen an opening. Lunging with his sword, the hare managed to stab Antigonus in his left shoulder. With a yell of pain, the young weasel fell as Sophus knocked him down with a swift kick to the gut. Rather than finish him off, Sophus hurried over to where the ladder was and sent a polecat flying back with another kick.

Ben saw what had happened, and he knew that he had to hurry. Putting the handle of his shillelagh between his teeth, Ben began climbing quickly. A slingstone struck his left leg, prompting him to curse aloud, but he kept climbing.

Soon, he reached mid-level with the ledge, where he saw that the two hares were fighting fiercely. Vermin coming too close were either two impaled with a sword blade or battered with a barrage of blows. The bodies of a few vermin, Khazdar and Antigonus among them, lay on the ledge, forgotten.

Snarling, the raccoon swung on the rope he held, launching himself clumsily at the ledge. Landing on his paws, the raccoon held his shillelagh, ready to fight.

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Sophus and Ormond heard the noise and turned around in astonishment. There, before them, was a creature that they had never seen before. It was larger than many of the other vermin, and its colouring made it seem more badger-like than anything else. The black patches on its pointed face hid its eyes, and its jaw held many shark teeth. It wielded an elaborately designed club, which they could see had a very heavily weighted end.

Ormond brandished his sword, "Hold the ladder, Sofa, I'll take this 'un." Only he could truly use that disliked nickname without any animosity from Sophus.

Ben glared at the approaching hare, "Stay out of my way, hare. I'm here to get that young weasel outta here to safety."

Ormond smirked, "So 'e can come back here and threaten the lives of Salamandastron hares again? I'm to stop any and all of you from takin' this mountain. Even if they ain't the regular vermin, wot!" He swung his sword at Ben's head.

Ducking the attack, Ben caused the hair on his hackles to stand up as he swung back with his shillelagh. Ormond swung back with the edge of his sword. The hardened, reinforced wood of the shillelagh was able to withstand the wood, however, despite leaving a notch. Ben growled and ducked another lunge from the hare.

It was then that a third hare emerged to help his comrades. He swung a spear at the raccoon, yelling out a war cry.

Turning to face this new attacker, Ben hissed as he swung his shillelagh for the hare's head. So strong was the lead-tipped end that the hare's head was crushed instantly by the blow. Ormond stared in horror as the near-headless body of the hare tottered in place for a moment, and then tumbled off the ledge down the mountain side.

Turning back to Ormond, Ben bared his teeth, "That's one notch, settled, hare. I'm happy to make another for you."

Ormond rushed forward, enraged. Yelling out a war cry, he drove Ben back with his assault. Nearby, Sophus was still holding the invaders back at the ladder, despite being heavily outnumbered.

Ben suddenly pulled a hatchet from his belt. He swung it forward, inflicting a long slash across Ormond's front. Thankfully the hare was wearing a leather tunic, which saved him from a blow that would have killed him. All the same, Ormond jumped back in reflex. Using this advantage, Ben swung his shillelagh with a snarl of triumph. The blow made contact with Ormond's leg, leading to a crack that was actually audible to the raccoon.

Ormond gave a scream of utter agony and collapsed. Sophus heard it and stared in horror at the sight of his friend, stretched out on the ledge, grabbing his now-broken leg.

Ben pointed his shillelagh at Sophus, "You can either help your friend inside right now, or I can kill him while those vermin take care of you in the next few seconds!"

Sophus turned back to look at Ormond, at the approaching vermin, exulted by the sound of Ormond's scream of pain, and he made his decision.

Rushing over to where Ormond lay, he began dragging him back to the window. As he went, he shot a look of pure hatred at Ben, "This isn't over, raccoon!"

Ben started, surprised that Sophus had known what he was. However, he had more important things to do. He saw a large marten be the first up the ladder, "You! See to Lord Khazdar!"

The marten, initially surprised to see Ben up on the ledge, nevertheless went to look at Khazdar's body even as Ben picked up the moaning Antigonus from where he had lain on the rock.

Surprised, the marten turned to Ben, "Khazdar's still alive!"

Ben nodded, "Good! Pick him up and bring him down this rope with me!"

Raccoon and marten slowly inched their way down the rope, towards the bottom of the slope. The rest of the vermin rushed towards the windows, where they fought hares who took up the defence of the ledge.

As Ben held a firm grip on the young weasel, Antigonus suddenly realized what was going on. "Ben?" he asked.

Ben smiled grimly, "Didn't I say that I'd repay my debt to you?" I'm gonna get you out of here."

Antigonus winced from the pain, "I should have done better. It was my first real battle!"

Ben sighed from effort of carrying Antigonus as he climbed, "You did fine, Antigonus. Just survive and you'll be fine."

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In the mountain, Sophus managed to find a few hares to take the crippled Ormond to the Infirmary, where many other wounded hares had been brought.

The doctor looked at Ormond's wound, "It'll take weeks to heal, lad."

Ormond looked devastated, tears of shame flowing down his face, "I'm supposed to lead! I've got a duty to protect this mountain!"

Sophus sighed sadly, "You can't do that now, Ormond. You'll have to stay here and rejuvenate yourself."

Ormond cursed in a rage-choked voice, but then went silent.

The doctor looked at Sophus, "Y'should leave 'im be, sah. He'll be looked after, you go back and defend Salamandastron."

Sophus nodded grimly, "Will do." He gave Ormond one last grip on the shoulder, turned around, and hurried out, back to the defence of his home.

After he'd gone, Ormond suddenly looked up in horror, "I never thanked him!"

The old doctor patted him on the same shoulder, "He knows, lad. We've been doin' this sort of thing ever since we've come to this mountain. We'll be doing it when these invaders have been defeated."

Ormond lay back, his mind full of guilt for not thanking Sophus, but now also thinking of the savage fighter who had almost killed him. Would they really be able to defeat this force?


	46. Chapter 46

**45  
**

Even as the assault upon the mountain's rear flank took place, the main army advanced towards the gate. By the time Khazdar had begun climbing the ladder, Ætharr was leading his army forward to take the mountain's main entrance, and with it, seal the hares' fates.

The grey-furred King Blackaxe looked at his longtime ally as they marched closer and closer to the range of the hares' longbows, "No assaults upon the slope?"

Ætharr shook his head, "I want this attack to concentrate on the main gate. Roaveen will have no choice but to lead every hare that he's got against us right here."

"What if they have more pitch?" Ptolemy asked.

"We'll be advancing in testudo formation," Ætharr replied, "That should be sufficient to prevent too much damage to our side. To destroy our enemies for good, I will brave any fires in this world, and any willing soldier or friend can choose to follow me!"

The great mass of front ranks in the vermin army raised their shields as the arrows began flying. As before, the large, wooden shields held firm against even the longbows of the hares. However, it was possible to recognize that far fewer arrows were flying. Either the diversion on the other side of the mountain was working far better than they had hoped, or far more likely, Roaveen was preparing a counter-offensive of some sort.

Ætharr realized what the Badger Lord might be planning, and he gave a loud yell, "Battle formations now!"

The orders were given down the lines, and the soldiers began setting themselves up for battle mode, still holding their shields above their heads.

Ætharr stood in between two of his theigns, Gyras and Ptolemy. He put up a horn to his mouth and blew a loud call before giving a large shout towards the dark shadows that loomed over the gate.

"Come out, badger! Meet us at your gate like a true warrior! Or else we shall come in and find you like the common criminal that you are!"

No response came from the mountain. Ætharr looked around, "What do you all think? Will he prove himself?"

Gyras smirked, while Ptolemy, more serious about the thought of battle, merely inclined his head as a sign of uncertainty.

The arrows had stopped flying, and the soldiers slowly lowered their shields to see what the mountain had to deliver them. Orders were given to the Calador soldiers to form a shield wall, bracing themselves to fight in the classic style. Elsewhere, the other tribes either copied the formation in a more crude fashion, or they simply stood to fight as they always had.

Then a roar suddenly sounded from the mountain, which called out a single word.

"CHARGE!"

From out of the darkness behind the ruined gates, emerged a massive warrior, clad in the finest armour and wielding a mighty sword. Roaveen stood taller than any of the hares at his back. He looked every inch the Badger Lord of Salamandastron.

Behind him poured a multitude of hares mustered for this mighty counter-attack. Hares of all age, hue, and size held a variety of weapons. They ran forward without hesitation, for this was their calling. This was what they had been raised for.

Ætharr bared his teeth and he looked around at the creatures around him. The vermin seemed quiet in their anticipation of what was to come, but they stood their ground firmly. The Ealdor nodded to himself in approval, and yelled out an order, "Counter-Advance!"

Slowly, the rigid lines of the shield wall began to inch forward, the front ranks throwing out their shields to counter the oncoming rush of the Salamandastron forces.

His long-handled axe still on his back, Ætharr held his shorter axe and made sure that his shield remained linked up. He saw that many of the hares approaching him were armed with long pikes. Knowing what to do about that, the weasel braced himself for the impact.

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Roaveen had mustered the majority of his hares together when he saw that the main army of Ætharr was advancing. He knew that if they took control of Salamandastron's gate, it would be the beginning of the end. It was better to fight them now, when they were hemmed in by the sea and the cliffs so that they could not surround his forces. He believed that his hares would be able to overcome, even these monstrous odds.

It was also balm to Roaveen's pride to be able to meet his enemies face-to-face in open war. The honour and glory would be his, as he deserved, and he would show his hares that Calador or any of their allies did not scare him.

As he charged forward towards the tightly packed vermin ranks, Roaveen felt the Bloodwrath in him rise. He gave a deep growl as he ran, preparing his sword for a crushing blow upon the first soldier he reached.

Around him, hares gripped weapons as they bounded forward. They would have easily outrun Roaveen, but most courteously kept in pace with their lord. Some, the younger hares mostly, were too wound up by the need to fight to notice the pride of their Badger Lord at this moment.

Along the lines, the sound of the two armies clashing seemed to ring through the midday air. Nothing else seemed to be happening except this battle.

Roaveen smashed his sword down at a hapless Calador soldier in his way, crushing the soldier beneath his riven shield. Teeth bared, the badger grabbed the soldier next to the first and pulled him out of the linked shields. He broke into the gap that he created, swinging his sword viciously. The soldiers attempted to maintain a disciplined shield wall, but it the presence of a badger maddened by Bloodwrath made it especially difficult for them.

Elsewhere, the shield wall fared better. Hares rushed forward and lunged with pikes or swung with swords. However, despite the devastation that the long weapons of the hares inflicted, the shield wall held, and the Caladors fought back with their own armoury. Elsewhere, the few foxes amongst the Falcarragh, the Jeri martens and Hunan polecats stood a better chance, being the largest of the vermin. The rest began fighting with equal savagery.

Roaveen hurled himself into the great sea of enemies before him. Cutting a ferret before him to ribbons with his sword, the badger picked up a rat in his other paw and hurled him out in front of him to be impaled on the weapons of his own comrades.

Ætharr, further down the line, engaged hares in combat. He ducked the initial pike attack, dropping his hand axe as he dropped. Rising up again, he took a throwing hatchet from his belt and hurled it straight at the offending hare's face. Ignoring the impact it made, Ætharr reclaimed his hand axe and swung it forward at the hare nearest him. Beside him, Ptolemy screamed as his paw was pierced through his shield by a spear. However, he swung his long sword effectively, striking a blow upon his attacker.

King Blackaxe took no shield, choosing to wield his mighty battleaxe with two paws. Bellowing out insults, the old king stood like a rock, swinging his weapon with brutal efficiency. Snauw stood by him, wielding two scimitars and cursing through his bared teeth.

Cocoran led a platoon of Falcarragh warriors, all of them shrieking insults in their wild language as they threw themselves against the Salamandastron hares.

The old colonel, Seahawk, had decided to come and fight for the mountain, despite his own great age. Silently straining from the effort, Seahawk nevertheless fought as hard as he could, his long spear finding targets easily.

Gyras snarled as he slashed a leveret's paw with his spear. Ætharr had had to drop his shield and was wielding both his axes. The shield wall was crumbling back, and the discipline in his army was wearing out due to the ferocity of the Salamandastron hares.

Roaveen saw no end to these hordes. He continued to fight, always seeing more targets within reach. He was almost oblivious of his army, so intent was he to fight. In the back of his mind, he was seeking Ætharr. When the cursed Ealdor was dead, the victory would belong to Salamandastron.

He thought, at several points, that he saw Ætharr. However, he was mistaken all these times. He had struck too far down near the sea, while Ætharr was holding the centre.

The Ealdor was also looking for Roaveen. As the shield wall's discipline had crumbled in the midst of the ferocious fighting, Ætharr decided to cut his way through the hares around him and try to find Roaveen.

Ducking a javelin thrown at him, Ætharr gave a loud yell, "To me! To me!"

Gyras, Ptolemy, Cocoran, and Craterus heard him, and they struggled to join him, bringing an odd assortment of troops. Craterus, bleeding from a cut on his face as well as another on arm, leaned on his broadsword for a breather, "What's the plan, lord?"

Ætharr glanced at them, "Anyone seen Roaveen?"

Cocoran pointed down the beach, "Last I checked, he was headin' there, so he was."

"Ætharr!"

The weasel turned to see Judos emerge from the crowd. He was wearing armour and carrying his sword. No smile adorned his face, but his very presence was an affirmation of his loyalty. The Ealdor's eyes widened in welcome astonishment, "I thought you were busy getting food!"

Judos waved that aside with his paw, "I saw what was going on and I came back." Judos said nothing of the unresolved issues between them. Now was not the time for such things. He would help his friend.

Ætharr nodded to his friends, "I'm going to find Roaveen to settle this matter. Who's with me?"

The group turned and move through the lines of their forces. The allied soldiers would have gladly wished to all fight, but there was not enough room for them all to engage the hares in combat. Therefore, over half of them were merely waiting, hoping for the opportunity to engage the enemy before the battle was resolved. They hastened to make way for Ætharr's group, some joining in.

Meanwhile, the Long Patrol and Mountain Regiment were fighting fiercely, despite the casualties that were mounting on both sides. Colonel Seahawk, as he paused for breath amidst the fighting, watched as hares a third of his age were cut down.

Roaveen had no such moment to contemplate the casualties of his hares. He was in the very thick of the fighting, nearly surrounded by his enemies. A loyal group of hares, led by Lieutenant Krieg, followed him, or attempted to do so, but the badger was lost in his own desire to slay Ætharr.

Then, he saw his desired quarry.

The tall weasel had apparently lost one of his axes, for he was only carrying one. Even through the red mist of Bloodwrath, Roaveen remembered the face of the Ealdor as the same as when he had spoken to him earlier the day before.

With a booming laugh of triumph, he moved forward to confront the weasel, "Ætharr! Come and face me at last!"

The weasel turned, staring at the large badger in astonishment. Roaveen smiled and lunged with his sword. The weasel dodged, swinging his battleaxe expertly. Roaveen parried the blow with his swordblade and pushed forward to keep Ætharr on the defensive.

The other creatures around the two made space, not wishing to be caught in between the duel. Badger and weasel fought viciously, ignoring their own wounds as they struggled to inflict wounds upon each other.

Roaveen gritted his teeth as he was not quite fast enough to avoid a cut from the weasel's axe. He was far from finished, however; the Bloodwrath made him imperious to any wounds, he cared only for this creature's death.

The weasel rushed forward, growling as he swung his weapon again. Side-stepping, Roaveen attempted to slash the weasel's back open, but he was able to dodge Roaveen's attack just in time.

However, in the melee, there had been many corpses made. So it was that the weasel tripped over a nearby dead hare, and lost his balance. Roaveen gave a laugh of triumph, swinging with his sword.

He watched as Ætharr fell back without a sound, blood pouring from the long gash in his torso. A great cry emerged from the vermin gathered around Roaveen, garnering much attention from the hares fighting nearby.

Roaveen raised his paws, "Now behold your warlord dead! Ætharr has been slain!"

Suddenly a voice called out, "That was not Ætharr, badger!"

Roaveen turned to look at the grizzled old marten who had said that, "What are you talking about?"

The marten's face was grim with grief, but his voice was composed, "That was Ætharr's cousin, Ædall, and a dear friend to many of us. I would fight you now, but your end will come when Ætharr finds Ædall's body."

Roaveen felt a spasm of anger. Again he had not killed his enemy! Cursing aloud, Roaveen turned away from the marten, who he now recognized as King Blackaxe, and went to his group of hares. As he walked away, the spell was broken, and vermin ran forward, seeking to avenge the death that they had just witnessed. A group led by Blackaxe stood guard over the fallen body, weeping.

Nobody touched Ædall from where he lay. None dared to do it for fear of what Ætharr would do or say when he found out.

Blackaxe turned to the others with him, "Find Ætharr. He must see this as soon as he can."

"My lord Blackaxe! He's over there!"

Blackaxe sighed heavily, and he turned to see Ætharr approaching through the crowd, accompanied by several other high-ranking figures.

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The old marten king looked deeply troubled, Ætharr thought to himself as he approached slowly. It was difficult navigating through the tightly packed ranks.

"Where is the badger?" Ætharr asked of the marten when he got close enough.

Blackaxe sighed, "He went that way to rally his hares." He gestured with his battleaxe.

The Ealdor nodded, "Good!" He turned to head in that direction, but was stopped by a paw on his shoulder.

"Ætharr..." Blackaxe began, but was interrupted by a yell of sudden anguish by Ptolemy and others new on the scene.

Ætharr turned around and looked to where Blackaxe stood, and all who saw him that day swore afterwards that they could see the light fade out of his eyes.

Ædall's eyes stared up, sightless. His paws still gripped his battleaxe, and his wounds had only just stopped bleeding. Ætharr felt the strength of his lengths give way, and tears flowed down his face without him even realizing.

His cousin, his beloved cousin, who had always so resembled him, who had fought with him all their lives. Now he was dead. Ætharr wondered whether he was fated to see all his family killed before he died. He thought of his father and son once again, their bodies appearing before him even as he stared, aghast, at this grisly sight before him.

Ptolemy, Craterus, and Judos wept as well to see the body of Ædall. All had known and loved the weasel for his good nature. He had also been widely admired for his fighting skills and leadership.

"Who?"

All tuned to look at Ætharr, who had uttered the question in a voice like granite. His eyes were filmed over in wrath, and his limbs shook.

Blackaxe pointed in the same direction that he had before, "The Badger Lord thought he was fighting you."

All of a sudden, Ætharr threw back his head and gave a shrill howl. It was a sound that all who heard it would never forget. Songs would be written about the keening of the Ealdor as a sign of death to come. Through this howl of agony and rage, Ætharr shouted out a single word.

"ROAVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE N!"

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The Badger Lord heard this terrible cry, and it made his blood chill for a moment. The hares around him started, and looked at their Lord in worry.

From out of the vermin ranks burst the Ealdor of Calador. He wore no helmet, he had no cloak, merely his arms and body armour. He pushed his soldiers out of the way, slaying hares in a maelstrom of flurries and swings of his axes, all the while roaring out his own Bloodwrath for the creature he hated more than he had hated anyone else in his life. A creature who he would cross Hell to slay with his bare paws if necessary.

No weapon could bite upon him. Hares fell if they stood in his way, and all the while he screamed out Roaveen's name like a demon coming to seize his next victim.

Roaveen felt his own wrath dim in comparison to the terrifying display coming closer and closer to him. He knew that this was his chance to end the war, yet he felt a tinge of fear at the sight of this warrior whose blood was roused beyond any point of reason.

Then, however, the badger saw just how many of the Mountain Regiment he had spent so much time training were falling dead at this monster's feet. Beside him, Lt. Krieg suddenly rushed forward, yelling out a war cry. Ætharr did not even break his stride to split the old hare's torso nigh in half. Ignoring Krieg's death wail, Ætharr contemptuously strode upon the body on his way to Roaveen. His eyes, blazing red, were fixed only on Roaveen, who upon seeing the Ealdor slaughter his way through hares felt his hatred and anger rise again.

Roaring, Roaveen strode forward, eager once again to be able to slay the Ealdor. A wide space was filled out by hares and vermin alike as the two mightiest warriors on the battlefield squared off not a few metres away from the sea.

Judos pushed his way through the crowd and stared at the duel. Both animals were still in their prime, and the hatred for each other seemed to heat the air itself. Metal clashed on metal as if to outdo the battle of thousands around them.

Snarling, Roaveen attempted to batter his sword down onto Ætharr's unprotected head. The Ealdor deflected the blows with his two axes, refusing to budge an inch now that he was avenging his son and his cousin. His face with made hideous by his malice and anger, and it was a terrifying sight to behold.

Roaveen managed to get past the axes and strike the weasel with the pommel of his sword. As though the injury was nothing, Ætharr swung his axes against Roaveen's armoured torso. The badger's armour withstood the edges, but the force of the weasel's strikes was taking its toll very quickly. Roaveen, in his frustration, ripped his battered breastplate from his body and swung his sword in a whirlwind of blows.

Ætharr dodged them all, suddenly making a declaration in a rage-choked voice that seemed to be channelled from the very fire-pits of Salamandastron, "You will die wailing, badger, and your hares shall be strung up and left to remember who signed their death warrants!"

Roaveen redoubled his efforts, desperate to slay this fiend. Yet no attack he made seemed to work. The weasel before him was tireless in his thirst for revenge, paws gripping axe handles so tightly that they seemed devoid of blood.

Ætharr made a feint to the right, and as Roaveen automatically blocked, he made a dive for the left. Roaveen, who had known that Ætharr would feint, countered with a massive strike aimed to cut the weasel in half. He gave a yell of triumph upon realizing that he had finally won.

However, his blade hit nothing.

Once again, the speed of the Ealdor had allowed him to prepare himself for the surprise move. As the blade hissed above him, Ætharr again shifted to the right, swinging his shorter axe with a grunt of effort.

The bearded blade bit deep into Roaveen's lower ribs. Ignoring the badger's sudden roar of pain, the weasel swung his long-handled axe, this time at Roaveen's paws.

One paw was completely severed, the other's bones broken by the force of the blow. Roaveen's cry of pain rose in pitch to a shriek of agony.

Ætharr ignored the cries of horror from the hares, except when a few rushed forward to save their Badger Lord. Turning on them, he slew two before allies led by Gyras drove the hares back.

Ætharr turned back to where Roaveen sobbed in pain. No mercy was in Ætharr's heart; he looked up at his soldiers and yelled in that terrifying voice, "I want them to see!"

Turning back to the badger, Ætharr took his axes and hacked down furiously several times. The hares who witnessed what he had done were either stunned by their horror, or wailed in agony at what they saw. Judos turned and vomited.

The Ealdor held up the badger's severed head and displayed it to his followers and his foes. Ætharr threw back his head and howled again, all the more terrible by the gleeful triumph that laced his anger.

Turning, he threw Roaveen's head as far as he could into the shallows. Picking up his axes again, Ætharr advanced towards the ranks of hares, seemingly mad with the power of his vengeance, "I AM ÆTHARR OF CALADOR! AND I SHALL DESTROY THE MOUNTAIN ITSELF! ONWARD! ON TO TAKE SALAMANDASTRON!"

It was then that the hares broke and ran. How much longer could they hold? The hundreds that still lived turned and fled back to the mountain, seeking to make a last stand within the gates rather than face more open combat.

Ætharr watched them go, and knew that none amongst his force could hope to outrun the hares. He spat in utter loathing, and turned to his followers, "Let them go! We shall finish them off tomorrow!"

For the battle had lasted the rest of the day, and the sun was setting in the west. Ætharr felt his wrath dim slowly, but the grief he felt for his cousin had not gone away. Tears once again began to flow, even as he looked at the battlefield, where so many dead lay in what seemed like red sand. Hundreds had fallen, and already soldiers were moving amongst the bodies, taking corpses regardless of allegiance away for burial or burning. The hares were also given this dignity, as was organized by Judos. None of the others objected, for in their victory, they felt their anger towards the hares ebb just for that brief aftermath of the battle.

Ætharr let his blood-covered axes fall in the sand, and he turned to face the setting sun. It too, was red. The sky's blue colour had seemingly begun to rust, and Ætharr knew that the darkness was not far off.

He had avenged his son, and his cousin. He had defeated the mighty hares of Salamandastron, slain the great Badger Lord Roaveen, and tomorrow, he would take the mountain as his own. And yet it did nothing to quench the growing feeling of misery that seemed to come with the fall of night.


	47. Chapter 47

**46**

The battle had been devastating for both sides, but the allied vermin tribes, through sheer force of numbers, nevertheless maintained a sizable force that was not dead or wounded. Indeed, many of those in the back had not fought all day, but there was no ill will felt amongst the tribes. Such was the luck and draw of a battlefield.

The attack at the mountain's rear flank had been called off by Ben when he had received word of Roaveen's counter-attack. The forces at the other side of the mountain had decided to bide their time and wait for further instruction. None had come, and so they too were preparing for nightfall. Khazdar had apparently been wounded, but was making a swift recovery thanks to the quick actions of the raccoon mercenary.

Judos oversaw the disposal for the dead, and he forbade anyone from defiling a Salamandastron hare's corpse. The body of Roaveen, however, was tied to several pikes for the seabirds. Judos was disgusted by this barbaric act, but there were many former friends of Ædall and those whom Roaveen had killed who wished to inflict their own revenge.

Food was distributed without any care for rationing. Their supplies were stocked full, and the aftermath of such a bloody battle seemed to call for a lapse in strict regimens.

Ætharr had briefly overseen the regrouping of his forces, and had gone back to his place by the shore, watching the waves and grieving for his cousin.

At one point, Gyras suddenly approached Ætharr, "Why did you halt the order to charge? They were on the run."

Ætharr sighed heavily, "The sun's nigh finished setting. And we have many wounded to look after. Their lord is dead, anyway, the survivors will be taken care of easily."

The warlike theign accepted that explanation with a nod. He looked awkward for a moment, silently standing next to the Ealdor, before finally speaking again, "I'm sorry about Ædall."

"Many brave soldiers fell today, Gyras," Ætharr replied curtly, "See to it that the wounded are taken care of."

"And the Salamandastron wounded? We've found quite a few still alive, and there's dispute over what to do with them." Gyras asked.

Ætharr thought about it, and waved the theign away, "Kill them as painlessly as you can. They fought bravely and deserve a quick death."

Gyras nodded respectfully, and went to do his duty.

Ætharr paused for another moment where he was, knowing that he too had responsibilities. It was then that he heard gasps of pain.

Turning, he saw a young hare gripping the broken shaft of a spear sticking out between his ribs. He was very pale, and shivering where he lay amongst his fallen friends and foes.

Ætharr picked up his axes and walked over to where the hare lay. Wide-eyed the young hare gazed with fear at the Ealdor.

However, Ætharr felt no rage for this creature. He had spent all his rage in his vengeance against Roaveen. Now all that was left was an empty melancholy. He nodded slowly to the young hare, "What are you called?"

The hare shuddered, pausing as he seemed to contemplate resisting any kind of conversation with the weasel. However, the hare (probably realizing that he could easily be tortured in his situation, Ætharr thought dully) eventually spoke his name in between gasps of breath, "L-Leaflock."

Ætharr looked at Leaflock's wound. It did not look good at all. Clearly the spear had either grazed or even pierced one of his lungs.

The weasel gestured at the wound, "You're dying."

Leaflock shook silently, giving rattled sobs as tears flowed down his cheeks. Ætharr could not help but pity this young hare, even if he was from Salamandastron.

Ætharr knelt down so that Leaflock would be able to whisper rather than speak aloud, "Lie still."

Leaflock gasped in panic and began shaking. He stared wildly into the Ealdor's face. He was not going to co-operate.

Sighing, Ætharr stood up again, "I'm sorry."

As he raised his axe to deliver the blow, Leaflock suddenly gasped out a response, "It's all your fault!"

Ætharr checked himself, and glared down at the hare, "Your badger lord allied himself to the murderers of my son. If Salamandastron had stayed out of the conflict, you wouldn't be lying here. In fact, I'll wager that you'd be dead some other way. What purpose do you hares serve here except to die in defence of this place? Salamandastron only serves as a graveyard for you hares."

Another rattling breath left Leaflock's mouth as he responded, "We die here because you keep coming here to fight us. You an' your lot, you need no excuse to kill and conquer. We've seen it before countless times, and Salamandastron has always fought scum like you!" Leaflock, mustering all his strength, spat in contempt of the weasel. The attempt was feeble, and he did not reach Ætharr, but the gesture had been made.

Ætharr felt his sympathy for the hare wane, and he considered leaving Leaflock alone to die of his wound. However, his cruelty and violence could only be justified to a certain point, and Ætharr found that after all the blood that had been spilled, his desire for vengeance was slaked on this day. He raised up his axe again.

"I'm glad you feel that your death was meaningful," Ætharr commented dryly, and he swung the axe downward as fast and hard as he could.

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In Salamandastron, an air of defeat stifled the hallways and corridors of the mountain. It had been a defeat unlike anything seen in many a hare's lifetime. The Badger Lord had been killed, and brutally so. The memory of a blood-stained Ætharr swearing to finish off the mountain's defences was playing in many of the hares' minds.

As the surviving officers did head counts, it was revealed that there remained a mere seven hundred hares able to fight. The losses were staggering even to the seasoned commanders of the Long Patrol. Well over half of the entire fighting hares that had charged out of the gate with Roaveen were now dead on the sands.

Colonel Seahawk had survived, being one of the last to retreat from the battle. With the deaths of Balliol and Krieg, Seahawk was the highest ranking officer alive, followed closely by Lt. Col. Jackers. The two old veterans did not feel very lucky, however. To have survived the devastation was almost as bad as having died.

The Mountain Regiment had suffered the worst casualties of the two Salamandastron fighting units. Nearly all their officers, except for Sophus and Ormond, lay slain or were missing. Four fifths of the recruits were also dead. It seemed as though Roaveen's attempts to cement his name into the annals of Salamandastron had died with him. In the absence of any other command, Seahawk declared that the Mountain Regiment was abolished. The Long Patrol was once again the sole fighting force of the mountain. How long that would last, however, was anyone's guess.

The surviving officers of the Long Patrol gathered together to discuss what would happen the following day. It was clear that Ætharr would not attack by night, but that was only a small comfort. What would they do?

Out of respect to the wounded officers, they had all met at the Infirmary. Ormond had insisted on fulfilling at least some part of his duty, even as he had wept over the death of his liege lord. Sophus too, had wept, especially over all those who had been in the Mountain Regiment. However, none made any objections to the Mountain Regiment's disbanding. The last thing needed was discontent and despair amongst themselves.

Seahawk held court, "Judging by the circumstances, I don't even need to say that it doesn't look good by any means. So we need to decide what to do concerning the mountain."

Sophus looked worried, "You're not thinking that we should surrender?"

Seahawk shook his head, but the response was given cautiously, "I have the final say over what we do now, but I'll be bally well damned if I don't carry out a council before I make decisions for all the hares of Salamandastron."

Lt. Roselyn, still silently weeping over what had happened, raised her paw, "I dunno what the rest of you are thinkin', but I shall die before surrendering to that beast Ætharr!"

Ormond and Sophus both voiced their support for Roselyn's stance, "Salamandastron has never surrendered!"

Jackers glanced at his old friend and superior officer, "I was born in Salamandastron, I will die here afore it falls into vermin paws!"

The other dozen or so officers stood up to offer their support to continue fighting. Nobody offered a contrary opinion.

Seahawk quickly blinked away tears and spoke up in a shaky voice, "It really is true what they say about Salamandastron hares. Perilous, the lot o' ye!" He seemed unable to say anything more.

The council was thus very brief. Salamandastron would ignore any offers of surrender. They would fight until the bitter end.

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Judos wandered along the tents of the main camp. There was more space between the tents now due to so many soldiers having died in the day's battle. Judos tried not to think of that, as he intended to speak with Ætharr. He had not had that chance yet, and there were things that needed to be said.

The Ealdor's tent was quiet. A few guards, led by the one-eyed marten Lt. Rojo, stood outside, acknowledging Judos with a nod.

"I need to speak with him." Judos told Rojo. The marten nodded, and turned to enter the tent. Judos waited, even as the other guards were silent.

After a minute, Rojo re-emerged, "He'll see you, Judos."

Judos nodded in thanks, noticing that the marten had a bandaged over one of his shoulders, "What happened?"

Rojo gave a small grin, "Some hare got lucky and grazed me with an axe. I returned 'im the compliment, rest assured." He held up his trusty mace and chain, smiling broadly. Judos managed a polite nod and smile before going into the tent.

The Ealdor was sitting on a makeshift bed of common straw. Ætharr had never been one to sleep in luxury while his army did not. It had always been part of what made him so well loved by the allied armies. Ætharr had been able to bind them all together in common causes of alliance and enemies to be defeated.

But now he was leading them to devastation and ruin, Judos thought. Nevertheless, he went to stand by his old friend.

"I grieve for Ædall and his family." he offered his sympathies stiffly, unused to being formal about his emotions. Ætharr, of course, knew him well enough that he was unconcerned by the delivery of what Judos had genuinely meant to convey. The weasel nodded his thanks, "His wife and children will always be taken care of and looked after. It's the least I could do for him."

Judos nodded sadly, "So what now?" He had wanted to ask other things of his friend, but as he thought of poor Ædall, he found that now was not the time to push Ætharr on such matters as he wanted to bring up. He would wait for a better time.

Ætharr looked up at the otter, "What now? We take our rest, and on the morrow, we'll finish off Salamandastron's forces."

Judos sighed, "We're not going to offer them a chance to surrender?"

Ætharr shook his head, "No. They won't accept any surrender. And neither will we."

Judos felt a shudder go down his spine, but he nodded, "Very well."

Ætharr suddenly looked Judos directly in the eye, "I need to ask you something. And tell me what you really think."

Judos was taken aback, but he answered, "Of course, Ætharr. What is it?"

"All this. Avenging Ædron, losing Ædall, so many other soldiers... am I still justified?"

Judos didn't respond. He was completely bowled over that Ætharr would ever ask a question like this. The Ealdor had always been so assured in his actions being right, even when he did things that caused division amongst his friends or his subjects. Now he was asking Judos whether he was still in the right for all he had done. It was perhaps the most vulnerable that Ætharr had ever allowed himself to be in a long time.

And Judos didn't know. He had himself been thinking about this for days now. This whole campaign seemed to make sense on tactical levels, and since he had known Ædron for as long as his own parents had, he surely understood the lengths to which a parent would go for their children. But it all felt wrong to Judos on some level, and that wasn't even taking into account what had happened in Vireo.

He had meant to ask about that tonight. He had decided that he would not, but now the opportunity had come up for him to speak upon it.

He returned his friend's gaze, "Roaveen brought Salamandastron into the war, not you. Ibos arranged the murder of civilians as well as your son. They deserved to be punished for what they did. But you are no better than they are at this point, Ætharr."

The weasel blinked in surprise at the blunt response, and when he responded, his voice was distinctly colder than it had been before, "What do you mean?"

Judos folded his arms, "You're telling me that preparing to slay hundreds of civilians for Ibos's life was a legitimate strategy of war?"

Ætharr frowned angrily, but the otter thought he sensed a bit of shame in the weasel's response.

"I did what had to be done. And it worked. the civilians went free and Ibos met his just reward!"

"If the troops had stayed loyal, would you have given the order for the civilians to be slaughtered?"

Ætharr paused, clearly thinking about his response. He did not think long, however, and gave a prompt reply, "I would not have organized that strategy if I was not convinced that it would have worked. That I can say with a clear conscience."

Judos sighed. That may be true, but it still avoided the question.

He decided that now might as well be the best time to talk about this, "Would you have killed those children to avenge your son? It's a simple question, Ætharr."

Ætharr was again silent, turning thoughts over in his head, his face growing darker as he pushed for an answer to Judos' question. Judos continued standing where he was, waiting for what his friend would say.

After a long pause, Ætharr gave his answer in a low voice, "Yes. To avenge my son, I would have spilled the blood of every Vireo I could find if it would have given me revenge on Ibos."

Judos again felt shudders of horror and disgust cause his body to shake for a second. He didn't know what to say.

The weasel suddenly looked at Judos with a concerned look in his eyes that seemed to hark back to who he was before his son had died, "Judos, I have never pretended to be a saint like that warrior of Redwall you've told me about before. I have just tried to do right by my conscience and honour, but ultimately, I make decisions for the good of my people. Yes, I wanted to find my revenge, but when this is all over, we will have Salamandastron and we will have defeated our enemies at last. The other tribes have all scattered, and Roaveen is dead. We are so close from victory! Surely what I have done will be justified!"

Judos let the emotion go by him. With a very reluctant sigh, the otter pointed out what he was thinking, "You will not be redeemed by conquering Salamandastron. You will not even be content with conquering Salamandastron, and you know it."

Ætharr stared in surprise, and anger, towards this deflation of his passionate argument. Judos knew that what he was saying could cost him dearly, but even then he did not regret it. It was the sort of thing that Ætharr needed to hear but would never hear from anyone except his closest friends. And now that one of his oldest friends was dead, he would need the others more than ever.

Ætharr cast his eyes down to the ground, "You're dismissed, Judos."

He said this without any warmth or friendship, and Judos sadly reflected that Ætharr would never be the same as he once was. The otter mumbled something about wishing his friend a good night before turning around and leaving the tent.

Judos headed back to his tent, wondering whether he had been too hard on Ætharr, especially considering it was so soon after a terrible loss. No, he thought. There were hundreds who had lost brothers and cousins and other relatives today. Ætharr had led the army here, not the other way around.

As he reached his tent, Judos lay down to look up at the stars near the fire outside. Ptolemy sat beside it, carving a bit of driftwood with a small knife.

"How did it go?" Ptolemy asked. He had known that Judos went to see Ætharr.

Judos shrugged, "I'm still trying to figure it out."

Ptolemy put away the driftwood figurine, "Well, then do you know what we can expect tomorrow?"

Judos' eyes narrowed, "Unless a miracle happens, tomorrow will see the end of Salamandastron."


	48. Chapter 48

**47  
**

Ætharr got up early to rouse his army for the final battle. Unlike the day before, the sky was covered with pale grey clouds. Even without rain or thunder, it was a subdued weather.

When Ætharr emerged from his tent, he was greeted with breakfast by Lt. Rojo, his most trusted bodyguard. The one-eyed marten had arranged a meal of fish and lizard this morning for Ætharr.

The weasel sat down to eat, "You've had something as well, I hope?"

Rojo nodded, "Aye, lord, I've had my fill."

Ætharr tucked in, glad to have a bit of food in him. He glanced at Rojo, "How's the shoulder?"

Rojo smiled, "It won't prevent me from fighting today."

Ætharr grinned in response, "I'm glad to have you on my side, Rojo." Saying that suddenly reminded Ætharr of a matter that had been brought to his attention by Blackaxe a few days before.

He looked at the marten, "Sit down for a moment."

When the marten had obeyed, Ætharr looked him squarely in the eye, "Blackaxe wishes to know if you would like to return to Jeri."

Rojo blinked in surprise, "What do you say to that?"

Ætharr shrugged, "I say nothing. I'm letting you decide where you'd like to spend the rest of your life, Rojo. I will accept any answer from you without question."

The marten did not even think about it. He placed his right paw over his heart, "If anyone asks what I am, I say I am Calador, and a loyal soldier to its Ealdor."

Ætharr was moved by Rojo's renewed loyalty. He nodded solemnly, "So be it, then. I'm glad that I won't be losing you, old friend."

Before Rojo could reply, Ptolemy suddenly approached, "The soldiers are organizing themselves for battle, Ætharr."

Ætharr quickly took two more mouthfuls of his meal before getting up, "I hope that they have as much of an appetite for battle today as I hope."

The soldiers were eager enough, for their bloody victory from the day before would certainly lead to their complete triumph today against the surviving hares. They were joined by the held-back division who had been on the cliffs. To maintain their position on the cliffs, Ætharr sent Horal eight hundred fit Calador soldiers who had fought in the previous battle. They would be able to take a breather while the fresh troops who had held the cliffs would be able to contribute to the war effort by taking Salamandastron. Glory would not be ill-dealt amongst the victorious allied army.

Ætharr, Cocoran, and Blackaxe were joined by Khazdar, his left arm in a sling. They held a council of war in the matter of seizing the mountain.

"The main assault will take the gate. That's where the majority of the hares will be when we charge. Meanwhile, the rear flank will renew their assault one more time to distract their forces. By this point, they will be unable to hold the entire mountain from us as long as we continue to attack."

The others nodded in agreement, Khazdar a bit less eagerly than the others. He would not say it, but the bandage was fresh and his wounds needed time to heal. Ætharr looked at Khazdar, "You'll have to command your division from the ground today, Khazdar. You've already fought nobly, it would be better for you to survive this war and continue in your father's footsteps as Hunan leader." The compliment was handsomely, and genuinely, delivered. Khazdar's shame at being unable to fight today was washed away in Ætharr's goodwill.

Cocoran spoke up, "Shall we also scale the mountainside on this front?"

Ætharr considered it, but then shook his head, "I'd rather concentrate my forces on the gate. It will force the hares to meet us on our terms. Anyone they send to the upper levels will be minor distractions."

"Unless they have more pitch prepared." Blackaxe pointed out.

Ætharr shrugged, "If they had any more of it, they would have used it yesterday. I'm prepared to take that risk, personally. Any objections?"

There were none. Ætharr had gotten them this far, he would give them the mountain before all was finished.

Thus began the march towards the gate. Ætharr, as always, led the army forward. Despite the approaching victory, the Ealdor was secretly tired and restless. He had not had a very comfortable night. Judos' words had stung him into deep thought concerning himself. He had not come up with answers that he necessarily liked. The otter said nothing on the matter today, but the weasel could not help but remember his words like a stinging fly that could not be struck away.

However, Ætharr knew that he had come too far to stop. He had sworn to take this mountain, to show he was the mightiest conqueror that had yet been born. He would prove himself now with this ultimate victory.

He saw that the hares had placed a few archers on the levels just above the gate. Their arrows began flying towards the vermin horde in an attempt to ward them off, but Ætharr knew that no amount of arrows they produced could stop him now.

He threw back his head and called out, "Charge!"

Arrows be damned, Ætharr thought. He hated arrows. They reminded him of his father and his son.

So he ignored the screams of vermin struck by the hares' missiles. He ignored them as he held his axes in paw. The others hurried to keep up with him, and the vermin army became a disorganized, howling mass, charging forward to snatch victory for themselves.

When Ætharr was less than eight paces from the gate, a sudden roar sounded. Out from the shadows behind the great ruin of the doors came the first hares to challenge the attackers.

One hare threw herself forward, a sabre in her paw. Ætharr dodged her swing and cut her down with his long-handled axe. Even as she screamed her death-cry, the Ealdor held her body as a live shield against a pike from another hare.

Soon, the others caught up to the Ealdor, and the battle was contained in the narrow doorway. Hares crowded forward, taking advantage of this small space to fight a vicious defence of the mountain. For their part, the vermin troops were eager to wipe out this hated enemy for good, and so the fight became especially brutal, with no quarter given. Hares would fire down upon the mass of vermin from their windows, but Cocoran hastily organized any and all archers that he could find to form a line in the army's rear to return fire against the hares above.

On the mountain's other flank, Ben and Khazdar once again led their assault, but this time focusing more on firing missiles in response to the defenders.

Within the mountain, a grim-looking Sophus watched over the few hares left at his disposal to hold back this division of vermin. He thought of Ormond, in the Infirmary with the many other wounded hares, and the families of these fighters, huddled deep within the mountain. They had tried to escape, but there were vermin at the top of the cliffs who fired arrows and slingstones at anything they saw. There would be no way for the old and the young to flee this massacre. The very thought of it all nearly drove Sophus to tears even as he offered meagre encouragement to the fighters as he made his rounds.

Meanwhile, Seahawk, Jackers, and newly promoted Captain Roselyn took command of the gate defenders, standing by as hundreds of hares pushed against the vermin masses. It was a brave effort, but all knew that the tide would surely turn inevitably.

At the centre of the gutter brawl stood Ætharr, snarling as he swung his hand axe with two paws. A hare attempted to impale him with a spear, but in the struggle over fallen bodies, the hare slipped and his spear merely glanced off of the metal breastplate that Ætharr had chosen to wear on this day. Jager, one of Blackaxe's most loyal and long-serving captains, was killed when a mace had knocked him senseless and he was trampled underfoot by both sides of the conflict. Dozens lay dead or dying, with the wounded given no chance to be saved from the crushing battle.

At the edge of the battle, Cocoran and Judos organized the archers and slingers. Having not used a sling in quite some time, Judos found it difficult to return to his former skill. Nevertheless, his troops were successful in their efforts, even as hares fell to the missiles sent upwards by their enemies.

Cocoran had taken up a sling as well, and he was more successful in his endeavour. The large Falcarragh chieftain nodded in grim satisfaction as a Long Patrol archer fell back into the shadow of the window when struck by Cocoran's slingstone. He turned to Judos, "I still can't believe we've done it!"

"It's not over yet," Judos reminded him, unable to hide his morose attitude.

Cocoran smiled, mistaking Judos' melancholy for fear of defeat, "Not to worry, mate. They've had a damn good thrashing an' now they're facin' another one just like it. They won't last."

Judos nodded, and walked away from Cocoran, pretending to gather more stones for his sling. He let himself wander away from the battle; he had no heart for fighting at the moment.

It was then that he heard it. It seemed impossible, and he thought he was mistaken at first, but the otter could have sworn that he heard a mass of creatures shouting "Eulalia". Was it from within the mountain? Surely.

But then as he was about to start looking for slingstones, Judos heard something else mingled in with the cry of "Eulalia". It was a sound that shocked him to the core, for he knew that nobody at this side of the mountain would be yelling it. It meant only one thing.

Automatically, he turned and bolted back to where the archers and slingers were gathered. He ran up to Cocoran, screaming the weasel's name.

Cocoran turned, alarmed at the otter's hysterical yells, "What is it?"

"We're being attacked!"

Cocoran frowned, "Attacked? By whom?"

Judos gestured wildly with his arms, "Listen! You can hear it!"

Cocoran did so, concentrating to avoid the sound of the nearby battle. Then he too, heard it. His eyes widened, "What are they sayin'?"

It was the first time that Judos had said the word in a very long time, and it chilled him to even say it, "They're saying "Redwall"."

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Ben and Khazdar stood together, watching the groups of archers and slingers on the beach shelter behind makeshift shelters as they reloaded their missiles. The raccoon glanced at the polecat next to him, "How do you think the battle's going on the other side?"

Khazdar shrugged, "I haven't received any news yet, but we shall continue to attack unless told otherwise." He suddenly turned to look at Ben, "By the way, I never thanked you for saving my life."

Ben paused, and shrugged modestly, "It wasn't just for you. I owed a debt to young Antigonus, and I was trying to save him too."

Khazdar nodded, "All the same, I-" He stopped, suddenly. His eyes and mouth widened in sudden terror. Ben turned to see what he was looking at.

An army was approaching them from the north. A great mass of creatures, as far as the eye could see from there.

"Look out!" came the shout from the cliffs. Ben turned to see that the vermin army on the cliffs were wildly trying to gain his attention, pointing at the very army nearing them.

Ben yelled up to them, "How many?!"

The small figure of Horal yelled down, "Hundreds! You can't fight them! Retreat!"

Khazdar needed no second bidding. He blew wild notes on a horn he carried on his belt and gave a panicky yell, "Retreat! Retreat! We're being ambushed!"

The advancing army heard the calls for retreat, and they knew that their surprise had been discovered. They began screaming out battle-cries and began a headlong charge at the scattered vermin division on the shore.

Ben was scared, but knew what had to be done. He waved up to Horal, "Throw down the rope ladders! Hurry!" The army camp on the cliffs had had climbing ropes and rope ladders prepared for convenience of travel from the different battle positions around the mountain. Now they would be used to save this stranded division.

Ben grabbed Khazdar by the shoulder, "Get out of here now, send word to Ætharr that Salamandastron's receiving reinforcements! It will give them a chance to draw back before they get here! I'll hold them off as long as I can while the division retreats!"

Khazdar nodded and hurried over to the cliffs. He grabbed hold of a rope which was immediately pulled up by the creatures at the top. Other scattered groups of vermin were running for the chance to climb their way out of the ambush.

Ben waved his shillelagh, "Rally to me! To me! Rearguard action!" Most of the Calador troops, recognizing Ben's voice as their authority, overcame their panic and hurried to form a shield wall. They were joined by a few of the other tribes, but most of them were told to take their chance and flee. It was the Calador shield wall that would best hold back these forces. The others did their part by carrying Calador wounded to the cliffs.

The enemy army, by this point, charged towards the hastily assembled shield wall, screaming out their challenges. Ben felt his blood suddenly run cold by what he heard.

"Log-a-log-a-log-a-looooooogg!"

"Redwaaaaalllllllllll!"

"Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Mossflowweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer r!"

This was madness, the raccoon thought. The allies of Salamandastron had come after all.

The force comprised of not just hares, but also otters, squirrels, shrews, and even a scattering of mice, hedgehogs, and moles.

With a crash, the wave smashed into the shield wall. Calador soldiers grunted with the effort of holding their ground.

Ben snarled as he smashed an otter's forepaw with one blow from his shillelagh. Ignoring the otter's scream of pain, he slew a shrew trying to impale him with a rapier.

The Calador soldiers fought out of a desperation to survive, but the combined efforts of surprise and numbers was telling. However, their fight had saved most of their allies. Even now the scattering of Falcarragh, Hunan, and Jeri were scaling the cliff walls. Horal organized archers to fire into the howling mass of creatures to aid their comrades below.

Ben shouted encouragement to his soldiers as they fought as hard as they could. The raccoon gripped his shield and used his shillelagh to deadly effect. A squirrel fell back, his life taken with a swift strike to his head. A hare that Ben did not know had the wind knocked out of him and his neck broken. The raccoon's teeth were bared as he cursed his opponents in a savage tone.

"Does Ætharr know about us?" a soldier behind Ben yelled as he impaled an otter on his spear over Ben's shoulder.

"Khazdar and the others will have reached him by now, he'll hopefully have pulled his forces back and regrouped!" Ben answered as he aimed a blow from his shillelagh to break several of an attacking otter's ribs.

Slowly, the Calador troops began edging backward. Even as more fell to the relentless attack, they trying to find a way to reach salvation.

Even as he fought, Ben wondered if he was truly to die here. The thought terrified him, and it made his fighting all the more fierce and motivated. He was oblivious to the rest of the battle, seeking to batter his way out somehow. Even then, his mind mentally took a tally of the creatures he slew, and those he merely injured. Lunacy, of course, for the raccoon wasn't even sure if he'd be able to add these kills to his count.

It was then that he heard a familiar cry, "Make safe the mountain!"

Ben froze in shock, for out of the mass of creatures, a fully grown badger emerged in front of him. He was heavily scarred, dressed in chain mail, and he carried an elaborately designed spear.

Thornback.

Ben almost dropped his shillelagh, and his eyes widened. Thornback could have slain him easily at that moment.

Except that Thornback had seen Ben. The badger stopped in equal shock, his eyes staring wildly into the raccoon's own. Thornback's mouth opened, and closed.

However, creatures around Thornback were oblivious to his recognizing Ben. To them, Ben was just another soldier in the Calador army. A Highland hare (Ben realized that all these hares must be from the Highlands) rushed towards the raccoon with a roar of anger.

Ben did not know this hare. He did not remember him from his adventures in the north. Therefore he felt no twinge of guilt as he blocked the hare's attack with his shield and smashed the hare's head into pulp with his shillelagh.

Thornback raised up his spear, as if to fight the raccoon, but paused when Ben did nothing against him. The raccoon would not do it, he would not fight Thornback, even now.

The badger stared at the raccoon, amid the battle turned increasingly against the Calador troops.

Ben looked to his dying companions, and turned to Thornback again, inspired. He yelled out what he hoped was a lie by now, "This is pointless, Thornback! Ætharr's on the other side of the mountain! He'll take it even as you slaughter us here!"

Thornback's eyes widened further, and after a pause, he turned to his army, "Rally! Rally to the mountain! Save Salamandastron!" He turned and headed for the mountainside, but not before giving one last stunned glance at Ben. Most of the army followed Thornback towards the mountain.

Ben and his surviving Calador guard took the precious moment of life to turn and bolt for the ladders. Almost immediately they were pursued by hares and otters, intent on finishing off this group. However, Horal ordered immediate volleys, checking the pursuit of these creatures.

Ben gratefully clung to a climbing rope, allowing himself to be pulled upwards by the weasels at the top of the cliffs.

Horal personally pulled Ben up, his face contorted in shock, "What is this?"

Ben merely looked at him with a dull stare, "This is the turn of the tide, Horal." He sat down with a long sigh, suddenly weary now that the adrenaline left his body.

Horal watched as the mass of creatures began entering the mountain at one side, and turned his attention back to the main army attacking Calador's front, "If Ætharr doesn't withdraw now, he's facing a massacre!"

Slowly, as if he was doing it in a trance, Ben pulled out a small knife from his belt and began cutting new notches into his shillelagh handle.

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Sophus ignored the cheers of his soldiers. He stared in disbelief as he watched this new army drive away the invading vermin forces. He peered out, trying to discern who they were.

Only when he heard their war-cries did he allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He felt a smile creep across his face, and tears prick at his eyes.

The army began hurrying towards the mountain, various creatures scaling the mountain side.

Sophus turned to the cheering hares, "Help them up! Quick!"

As the Long Patrol hares began throwing out ropes to aid the reinforcements to enter the mountain, Sophus ran down to the lower levels, where creatures had an easier time against the steep mountainside.

As he entered the hall, he saw that two dozen or so creatures had made the climb while Sophus had been organizing the ropes.

"Thornback!"

The badger turned to see who had cried out his name. He saw Sophus' officer decorations, and inclined his head, "I've returned once again, Captain."

Sophus did not know what to say. He looked at the Highland hares, otters, squirrels, and other animals clambering in through the windows.

Suddenly another badger climbed in, and stared with delight at Sophus, "Thank the seasons you're still alive, Sofa!"

Ignoring all protocol, Sophus ran forward and embraced Korari in a sudden fit of sobs. He had never been so happy to see anyone. Korari had succeeded in bringing the reinforcements to save the mountain.

Thornback pulled Korari and Sophus apart, "Where is the rest of the vermin army?"

Sophus snapped back to reality, pointing down the corridor, "Ætharr's attacking the gate with most of his army, sah! I don't know if they're still holding him back!"

Thornback and Korari began calling to their army to follow them, instructing Sophus and the other remaining Long Patrol hares to guide the reinforcements through the mountain as they entered. It looked to be hundreds of creatures trying to enter the mountain as fast as they could, even as Thornback and Korari charged on to fight Ætharr.

Sophus leaned against the wall in relief. Salamandastron was saved.

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Judos pushed his way through the packed ranks of the vermin, "Pull back! Ambush! Ambush!"

Confusion spread through the back ranks of the army, but they began listening to Cocoran and Judos, both of whom bellowed for the soldiers to retreat back to their camp.

They were joined by Khazdar and a number of other creatures, who yelled of attackers driving a division back to the cliffs, telling them all to withdraw now while they still could.

In a growing flood, vermin obeyed the new orders, not sure why they were doing so. However, they were confused and scared by the warnings of ambush, and sought to rally against this new, unseen attack.

Eventually, only the foremost ranks still fought, Ætharr being among them. Judos scrambled to reach his friend, "Ætharr! Ætharr!"

He spotted the weasel, still at the front, defending himself against two hares. Judos whirled his sling in desperation, knocking on hare unconscious with a slingstone fired at point-blank range. Ætharr cut the other down with his axes.

He turned to face Judos, "What are you doing?" He suddenly noticed that the main bulk of his army was hurrying back to the camp, and his face morphed into one of savage anger, "Back! Back you cowards!"

"Listen to me, Ætharr! We have to retreat or we'll be slaughtered!" Judos screamed.

Cocoran ran up to his brother-in-law, "He's right! We've been attacked!"

Ætharr's anger slowly melted into surprise, "What?"

At that moment, a great roar sounded from the behind the grim-faced hares defending the mountain. They turned to look behind them in alarm, many of them gasping or crying out.

Ætharr stared in confusion at this new change, "What?"

His confusion turned to sudden shock when from out of the gates emerged not one, but two fully grown badgers, one armed with a long spear, the other with a sword.

Ætharr suddenly felt fear grip him. It couldn't be. Two badgers now? Where had they come from?

He had no time to think, for they charged forward, slashing at the few allied soldiers still standing by the mountain.

Ætharr stared at Judos, "What's going on?"

"We have to get out of here, Ætharr! Now!"

Still the Ealdor didn't retreat. He looked from one theign to the other, even as Cocoran and Blackaxe hurried off to escape the new badger opponents.

"Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaa!"

The scarred badger carrying a spear broke through the rearguard and rushed for the group of officers standing around between the mountain and retreat.

Suddenly Ætharr's most loyal bodyguard, the one-eyed marten Rojo, ran forward, "Run, all of ye! I'll hold him off! Go! Go!"

Ætharr stared in shock as Rojo ran past him, "No!"

"Go, Ætharr! Don't let Rojo die in vain!" Ptolemy suddenly yelled, even as Rojo screamed a war cry. Thornback snarled as he jabbed at the marten with his spear, even as Rojo swung his mace and chain against the mighty badger.

Tears of shame welled up in Ætharr's eyes as he turned and ran to the camp. As he ran, he heard a yell of agony from Rojo, and he realized that the brave marten was dead. Rojo, who had served him so faithfully since the day he had liberated the Jeri tribe from Oorlog's tyranny. The loss of yet another close and beloved friend filled Ætharr with grief.

Before he reached the camp, he slowed his run to a walk, in an attempt to salvage what little dignity he had left. He refused to look anyone in the eye as he headed back to his tent. He ignored the cries of victory sounding from the mountain, and disappeared from view.

Ptolemy approached Judos, "You saved most of our lives, Judos." He bowed to the otter in thanks.

Judos nodded in gratitude at the compliment, and looked back at the mountain, "I suppose a miracle happened after all."

Ptolemy sighed shakily, "Who were those two badgers?"

"Thornback and Korari, I imagine." A cynical voice rang out.

Weasel and otter turned around to the cliffs.

Ben had climbed down one of the rope ladders, and approached the two theigns.

Judos nodded, "Glad to see you're still alive, Ben. But how do you know the names of those badgers?"

Ben showed no amusement in his face, "Thornback and I are old friends. He was the one who I followed to the Highlands and fought alongside. I've only heard about Korari, but I can safely guess that both badgers are worth twelve of Roaveen."

Ptolemy shuddered, "How many soldiers did they bring?"

Ben shrugged, "Hundreds, I don't know how many. But even if you rule out our casualties, we should still outnumber them by a bit."

Judos looked at him, suddenly, "What will you do if you face Thornback in battle?"

Ben gave Judos a level look, "I already faced him today. I didn't fight him. I won't fight him even if Ætharr tells me to."

Judos was confused, "Yet you'll still fight for us?"

Ben shrugged, "I've done this sort of thing for a while now. I'm used to it. What about you, Judos? There are Redwallers in that army. I heard the yell. What will you do when your past meets you face-to-face?"

Judos did not answer.


	49. Chapter 49

**48**

Thornback and Korari were given heroes' welcomes by the Salamandastron hares who still lived, and the various allies summoned to the mountain were all treated to a hasty feast in the great hall of the mountain.

Seahawk and Jackers, the two highest ranking officers of Salamandastron, sat at the biggest table surrounded by Thornback, Korari, and a host of creatures who had also led the attack.

Thornback introduced them as Log a Log, leader of the Guosim shrews; Prince Diomede, brother to King Priam of the Highlands; Skipper of Otters, representing Mossflower and Redwall, as well as a very strange looking animal that Skipper introduced as Adisa. All were greeted warmly, even as Jackers gave Adisa a puzzled look.

"I am what is called a civet," Adisa replied, "We used to live in Mossflower a long time ago. Now I am a resident of Redwall Abbey."

Skipper, who by now had grown many silver hairs in his sleek coat, asked about the vermin army that was besieging Salamandastron. He had been amazed by the fighting prowess and courage of the large weasels who had fought in the shield wall formation.

"They are Caladors," Seahawk grimly replied, "There's a few other tribes along with 'em, but the Caladors are the best fighters. They're all from a region south-west of 'ere. The blighters have always fought amongst each other, but now these 'uns have allied and declared war upon us, wot."

Korari had been devastated by how few of the Salamandastron fighting hares were still alive, grieving as names of the dead were listed.

And there had also been the matter of Roaveen. The eldest of the three badger brothers had never been on the best of terms with Korari or Thornback, yet the story of his death at the paws of Ætharr filled Korari with tears. Thornback, while not crying, gave a dark look of rage and sadness when he was told of the Ealdor's howl of anger and triumph after beheading the Badger Lord.

"This Ætharr is even deadlier than I imagined he would be," Thornback now remarked. He remembered the prophecy which had warned them so long ago of this dangerous foe.

Seahawk nodded, "I've never seen a vermin army so well disciplined in me life, sah."

"Is it known why they attacked Salamandastron?" Adisa asked.

There was a pause from the old officers of the Long Patrol, looking from the badgers to each other. Finally, Jackers hesitantly replied, "Roaveen, before he died, led a series of campaigns against Calador, and he pretended to ally with one of the tribes while doing so. This one tribe ended up killing Ætharr's son, which led to 'is wiping out that tribe and turning to us."

Thornback shook his head, "Why would Roaveen fight alongside vermin?"

Adisa looked around at Thornback thoughtfully, "Would you be so eager to ask that question if his venture had been successful?"

"Yes I would!" Thornback replied, but without hostility. Adisa was a stranger, and did not know Thornback very well, so the badger was lenient of the civet's question.

"It's of little matter now," Jackers said gloomily, "Ætharr's here, and 'es sworn to take this place."

Korari suddenly stood, and while he had never suffered the Bloodwrath before in his life, the badger now seemed on the brink of it as he declared, "As long as I live, Ætharr will never set foot in Salamandastron!" The other leaders called out agreements to this claim.

When the noise subsided, Jackers looked at the leaders of the reinforcements, puzzled, "How did you come here so soon? How could you all coordinate your charge so perfectly?"

"We have known about vermin troubles for a while now," Thornback remarked, "The birds tell each other of what is going on, and King Priam is good friends with a seabird known as Walla. She informed us of a vermin army unlike any before marching for Salamandastron, and so we began arming an expedition to aid you. Three days later, Korari's ship arrived just as we were ready to set sail."

"We at Redwall also heard rumours of it, thanks to Warbeak and the sparrows of Mossflower," Skipper piped up, "We rallied volunteers in Redwall and Mossflower to form an expedition with Log a Log and his shrews. I also sent Warbeak to find Walla and so we agreed to meet up our forces north of Salamandastron so we could arrive unexpected."

"Thankfully, it worked." Log a Log concluded with a smile as he took a bite of bread.

Seahawk nodded respectfully to Prince Diomede sitting next to him, "We're grateful for you and your brother's 'elp, sah. You're a perilous creature to face down this threat personally."

Diomede inclined his head, "No need to thank me. I've come to represent my brother, and atone for past sins in my life." He drew out a fresh scroll of parchment, "And also to give you this."

Seahawk and Jackers peered at the writing, working out what it said.

Thornback spoke up, "It is a copy of the King's Scroll. The agreement between Bucko Bigbones and Lord Brocktree of Salamandastron. Both kingdoms agreed to be allies in peace and war. Should either side need aid, the other would march out to help. We have the original at the Highlands, kept safe, with the signatures of Bucko and Brocktree, but that copy still contains all that they signed to."

Seahawk read over the old terms, impressed, and gave it to Korari, "You keep hold of it, sire."

Korari looked surprised, "What did you call me?"

Seahawk stood up, "Korari, Roaveen has fallen. He had no heirs of his own. Thornback has said that he has no intention of returning 'ere to stay. You have always served this mountain selflessly, and you saved the mountain when its need was dire. Therefore, by the power invested in me by the hares of Salamandastron, I name you Badger Lord of Salamandastron!"

Cheers erupted from all the tables, as most had turned around to hear what Seahawk had to say. Now they offered their support for Korari, who stood up to receive this adulation. Thornback grinned up at his younger brother, "May you reign long and wisely, Korari."

Korari sat down again, but while he had been standing, he had noticed that Skipper had a long bundle of cloth next to his chair, "What's that, Skipper?"

Skipper picked up the bundle and unwrapped the cloth, revealing an old yet brilliantly crafted sword, famous beyond legends. All who saw it, even if they did not know what it was, knew that this was a sword of true warriors.

"That is the sword of Martin the Warrior."

Skipper grinned up at Seahawk, who had made the statement, "Aye, and it has been fated to play a part in this fight."

"Who wields the sword?" Jackers asked.

"Nobody for a long time," Skipper answered, "It belonged to Raga, our Abbey Warrior, but he died in the Highlands and no other warrior 'as been chosen since. The sword was lost for a time, but it was returned to us by a stroke of good luck, and we've kept it safe as usual. But several days ago, before we got any news about the vermin army, I was given a message by Martin:

_One day, as the red sun begins to set,  
And armies stand beneath the lonely peak_,  
_The conqueror, his taste for war to whet,  
__Shall his impossible ambition seek,_

_Long he has fought, and many he has slain,  
But the mighty axe shall break against rock  
Much blood will flow, and into the sands drain,  
Against any chance to cease, he will baulk  
_

_But one shall emerge, some say from the dead  
A conqueror's friend, keeper of his soul  
Former thief alone can slay the great dread  
And with mine own sword, he shall be made whole_

_So go to the west shore, and aid thy friends  
May a worthy warrior stand before the end!_

Jacker's frowned, "Well, the lonely peak would be us, wot!"

"Ætharr is the conqueror, or I'm a fool," Log a Log remarked.

"And it seems that he's fated to lose," Korari said eagerly, "Considering that the axe will break against our rock!"

"But who shall emerge from the dead?" Diomede asked, confused, "Such a thing is impossible."

"Maybe it is someone who we presumed to be dead but is not," Jackers allowed, "And he seems to be someone guilty of old crimes."

Thornback looked at the others, "Any ideas?"

Skipper's grin faded, "I have one idea, but even now I can't quite believe that it's possible."

"Who?" Adisa persisted.

Skipper looked at the civet, "His name was Judos." The civet started, as if remembering something terrible, but he made no further comment.

"Judos was a youngster at Redwall, very rebellious an' troublesome. He had been found by Abbott Varrus and Mother Sara one cold winter, the sole survivor of a raid. He never listened to those who wanted to take care of him an' one day he stole the sword of Martin. We spent a long time looking for 'im, which led us to the Highlands. I was told that 'e had died, and I never gave it much thought. But since I heard Martin's message, I think that otter might not have died after all, and he might come to help us."

Thornback suddenly looked at Skipper, "An otter, you said?"

Skipper nodded, "Aye."

Thornback stared at his old friend, "Because when I attacked Ætharr today, I saw an otter standing with him and the others."

Skipper paled, and a silence fell upon the chieftains.

"The conqueror's friend," Seahawk remembered aloud.

"He's been with the army, fighting us this whole time!" Jackers remarked angrily.

"But according to the prophecy, he shall slay the conqueror!" Log a Log pointed out.

Skipper nodded slowly, "Maybe Judos has been a prisoner all this time. Maybe 'e's just waiting for a chance to come back!"

"He could 'ave escaped a long time ago," Jackers said dismissively.

Thornback glanced around, "Should we try to send him a message?"

Seahawk objected, "Is it a good idea to risk any more hares' lives for such a mission, even Judos is a prisoner?" He looked at Korari, silently asking for the badger to make a decision on behalf of Salamandastron.

Korari paused in thought, and gave his answer, "We'll just have to see what happens, and hope that Judos can escape to our side. But until then, we defend ourselves against Ætharr, for he's far from beaten and even Martin the Warrior knows that he won't be stopped while he still lives!"


	50. Chapter 50

**49**

The next day, in the vermin camps, no order to attack was given. It was stated that they would attempt a night attack instead, so it was advised that they stay rested and take things easy for the day.

Thankfully it was a sunny day again, and Judos sat outside his tent, letting the hot weather warm him. He wondered what was going to happen now that Salamandastron had been reinforced.

He was joined by his two constant companions, Ben and Ptolemy. The three of them sat in silence for a while, as if unwilling to break the calm moment in the midst of the war.

Judos glanced around him as soldiers began preparing for the inevitable battle that they assumed was going to happen, "What do you think Ætharr will decide today?"

"Hard to say," Ben replied, "He lost face yesterday, even though he came very close to succeeding."

Ptolemy had resumed attempting to carve figurines out of the driftwood, much to Ben's amusement. The raccoon had been the one who had given Ptolemy this fascination for wood-carving. After seeing some of Ben's handiwork, Ptolemy had begun asking Ben for advice on how he could craft some toys for his children.

Watching Ptolemy carve out shapes, he was reminded of Ptolemy's children, "Meleager should be old enough to fight soon, yes?"

Ptolemy sighed, "He began the training when I left with this army. He will not be finished until the next season. Hopefully I'll be back in Calador for that."

Judos nodded, sensing the repressed fear and doubt in his friend's voice. The weasel had always been sensible and intellectual, less prone to drink and fight such as Gyras was prone to do. It was why the two of them had become such friends in the first place.

Judos looked over to Ben, "So now that there are two badgers at Salamandastron, who will be in charge?"

Ben, meanwhile looked up to where the mountain stood, "Difficult to say. Though I'd guess on Thornback. Thornback's older, and I'd say he's got more experience in war considering what sort of war was being fought in the Highlands."

The trio were suddenly approached by the Jeri captain, Snauw, "Council of war."

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Ætharr sat in his chair, a baleful look upon his face. His face was worn by a lack of sleep, and he constantly held one of his freshly sharpened axes in paw. The war was really taking its toll on him, yet he still gave off the air of one who was in their element.

The other leaders and captains sat or stood around the makeshift table that had been laid out for use. Judos sat beside King Blackaxe and Horal, allowing himself to look straight ahead at Ætharr.

The Ealdor looked up when everyone was seated and silent, "A number of you have called this council together to discuss the future of our campaign against Salamandastron."

Blackaxe nodded, "That's right, Ætharr. Now that the tide has turned against us, we need to consider our options."

"We haven't been beaten! We still outnumber them!" Gyras objected hotly.

"Those warriors are fresh, led by two badgers!" Blackaxe countered, "We cannot pretend that we are invincible. The battles have worn out our soldiers and we have many wounded. At best, we must hold the siege for a day or two without battle to give them some breathing room."

"And at worst?" Cocoran suddenly asked.

Blackaxe frowned, "At worst, we cut our losses and go home. We have set up strong defences of our lands. They will not march out to fight us on our own territory."

Protests erupted from the younger and more warlike of the council. Judos sighed and looked into his lap, unwilling to give an opinion for either side of the coin.

A loud whistling sound suddenly rose over the voices, followed by a sickening crunch as a blade smashed into the table. The others stopped their talking and looked up in surprise.

Ætharr, who had stood up to make his swing all the more powerful, pulled the blade of his axe out of the table. Such had been his strength that there was deep cut clean through the wood.

He looked at them all, "I do not deny that we are facing new enemies, and we must be cautious. I agree that we must take a moment to recuperate our strength."

He turned to Blackaxe, who even sitting down was almost able to face the standing weasel eye-to-eye, "But I will not slink away like a coward now that we have come so close to our goal of wiping out our enemies. We stand ready to take Salamandastron, and despite the setbacks of yesterday, we shall rally and defeat them!"

"You are not the only chief at this table, Ætharr," Blackaxe replied calmly, "And we are not all as confidant in this victory as you."

Ætharr stared at his ally, "Are you saying that you doubt my abilities?"

Blackaxe heard the dangerous tone in the Ealdor's voice and frowned, "Ætharr, you came to join me when I was driven to the end of my hope. You helped me rally my tribe against Oorlog, you and your soldiers brought others to aid us. You have done more for the Jeri tribe than any other who was not a Jeri themselves, and I will always respect you as a friend and ally. But surely you have taken your revenge? Roaveen is dead, as are half of his warriors. We walk away with that satisfaction of defeating the Badger Lord of Salamandastron."

"And for every song we make about our supposed victory," Ætharr answered bitterly, "another five will be made hailing the great victory over the mighty alliance of Calador, Jeri, Falcarragh, and Hunan. We will be subjected to ridicule for generations! They will speak of how we came within an inch of taking the mountain, only to flee when new opponents revealed themselves!"

"That's part of the problem, lord," Ptolemy interjected, "What do we know about these reinforcements' fighting styles? How can we judge them as enemies if we have never fought them?"

The Ealdor turned to Ben, "Tell us what you know about these new badgers."

"Thornback and Korari are the younger brothers of Roaveen," Ben offered in a neutral voice, "I don't know much about Korari, but I travelled with Thornback for a time, and we fought alongside each other many times. Thornback earned his scars in the Highlands, and since they have come to fight for Salamandastron, I can only assume that his friends were successful and he's become a prominent leader amongst them."

Ætharr had already spoken to Ben about all this information, so it was more for the sake of the others that he had Ben speak. The others pondered what the raccoon had said.

"Would you name Thornback as Roaveen's better?" Cocoran asked.

Ben cocked his head to the side, almost in hesitation, "I'd say he's definitely the better leader, but Roaveen was the stronger fighter."

"You see? This turn of the tide only delays the inevitable." Ætharr said, but Judos could see that the doubters did not feel any more assured by this information.

Slowly, hesitantly, Craterus stood up to offer more doubt in Ætharr's claims, "What of the others? There were more than just hares and badgers in that host. There were otters, squirrels, and shrews too. Where did they come from? Who are they?"

The Ealdor gave a hard look at the large theign. It was bad enough that one of the other leaders had spoken against him, but now one of his own theigns? All held their breath, wondering what the Ealdor would do.

Judos looked fearfully at Craterus, who had put on a worried but determined face. Even though his inquiries were not against Ætharr, they showed that the theign was not confident in his own Ealdor's decision. Judos had not seen such a thing since Vogel had stood up to Ætharr, and that had ended with Vogel's death by Ætharr's own hand.

Ætharr turned to Judos, "You can answer those questions."

Judos cleared his throat uncomfortably before answering, "They hail from Mossflower, the great forest to the west. The shrews are most likely Guosim shrews, and they are fierce warriors. As are the otters and squirrels of Mossflower and Redwall. If I had to guess, I would say that they are being led by the Skipper of Otters, a leader that they elect amongst themselves."

The vermin chiefs muttered amongst themselves. Redwall was another name that inspired fear and legendary status. It was another place which had never been taken by the enemy.

Ætharr tried to wave away their doubt again, "I elect that we allow our soldiers the rest that they need, and we shall starve out these new arrivals in Salamandastron. When we have recovered our strength completely, we shall take the mountain as we swore to do!"

The response was mixed. Blackaxe was still doubtful, but Khazdar and Cocoran immediately showed their support. Judos could understand why: Cocoran was family to Ætharr, and Khazdar was young and eager for glory. Blackaxe was old and had always been very intelligent. He could see that the stalemate was continuing despite any initial victories.

Judos looked up at the Ealdor, noting that even three seasons ago, he would have had no problem rallying his allies. Ætharr was not only losing their confidence, he was losing his charisma. The losses of Ædron, Ædall, Rojo, and others were weighing down on his mind, and was turning him less reasonable than he had always been. It came out in how he was blustering his way through this uncertain council.

Suddenly a guard burst into the tent, "My lords! They're coming out to attack!"

Ætharr looked up in surprise, "How soon until they get here?"

"Twenty minutes at the most! But the alarm's already been raised!"

Another soldier burst in, eyes wide, "They've sent another force around our flank! They must have gone around the mountain and along the coast!"

"We'll be cut off and surrounded!" Khazdar yelled, panicked.

The Ealdor ran to get the rest of his weapons and armour. He turned back to the rest of the officers for a brief moment, "I'll take a group of soldiers to defeat the second wave. I'll rally the cliff divisions to halt their advance! Ptolemy and Horal with me! The rest of you face those coming from the front! We must be ready to fight! Go! Go!"

"" """ "" """ """ """ """ """ ""

When Judos and the others ran out of the main tent, they saw that the troops were already in a hurry to organize themselves into a proper formation. They rushed up past the forest of tents, gathering to form their battle line just outside of the camp.

The army was advancing. Salamandastron hares, Highlands hares, otters, and squirrels came forward together, yelling their war cries. Korari and Thornback were in the lead, as were several other creatures.

Judos stood still for a moment, looking out at the advancing forces, even as the others began running towards their divisions. Beside the otter, Ben stared at the figure of Thornback, a look of sad determination on his face.

Judos pointed to their left, "Thornback seems to be leading the Highlands hares against our left, Korari's taking our center with the remaining Salamandastron hares, and the Mossflower unit is engaging our right!"

Ben nodded, and silently headed over to their right flank. Judos did not follow him, instead running to the army's centre.

The Calador units made their shield wall, even as vermin from other tribes prepared to fight.

"Archers and slingers behind!" Became the call amongst the officers along the thick battle line. Judos moved through the ranks to the front as many vermin hurried in the opposite direction.

Drawing his sword, Judos watched as the Salamandastron unit advanced forward. He did not look to either the Mossflower units or the Highlanders. All that drew his gaze was the grim approach of vengeful Salamandastron hares led by Korari, who was dressed as only a Badger Lord would be.

A hail of arrows and stones began flying in both directions. Craterus, standing with his own troops, deflected a slingstone with his shield. The big weasel turned to the nearest group of soldiers, "Keep calm and fight hard, lads! Together we shall overcome!"

At the far right of the army, Ben stood impassively, shield and shillelagh gripped tightly in his paws. He watched the approaching Mossflower forces with a grim look in his eye. It was because he recognized their leader.

Skipper of Otters, silver with his advanced age, still led this host forward, seemingly undaunted by the allied vermin army ahead of him. He raised his head up and gave a loud cry, "Redwaaaaalllllllllllllllllll llll!"

The Calador troops and their allies suddenly raised their weapons and gave an indistinguishable howl to counter the confidant attack of their enemies.

"" "" "" """ """ "" "" "" "" "" """ """ """ """ """ """ """ """" """" " "" """

Ætharr ran forward, towards the mass of forces that had gathered by the water's edge south of the camp.

Log a Log and the shrew army had been dispatched to ambush the enemy from behind, even as the others approached from the front. Thankfully, the ambush had lost the element of surprise, but not all was lost or won for either Ptolemy and Horal behind him, the Ealdor led the held-back division from the cliffs against the shrew army. The multitude of these small creatures ran forward without fear of their larger foes, sending missiles towards a slingstone, Ætharr kept running forward. Behind him, he heard missiles find targets, leading to screams of agony cut short.

Ptolemy yelled out "Charge!"Calador weasels waded into the mass of shrews, wielding their weapons wildly and causing shrews to fly through the air.

However, it was not so easy as they would have liked to think. Unused to fighting these small opponents, the Calador soldiers were always carried their best armour for the top half of their bodies. This left their legs and lower area more vulnerable to attack, which had not mattered in the past due to their , these creatures were able to duck past the shields and attack upwards, rather than downwards, as the Calador troops were more used to.

The shrews leaped forward, led by their leader, all of them yelling a battle cry that sounded like "Log-log-log-log!". Ætharr swung his axes at the shrews in front of him, attempted to go through their forces like a farmer hacking at shrubs. The shrews did not make it easy for him, whirling heavy pebbles against him with their slings or stabbing at him with sharp rapiers.

Around him, Calador soldiers were hamstrung by the quick attacks of the shrews, even as others distracted them with slingstones. Any who were unfortunate to take a slingstone in the wrong area were knocked out cold, only to be dispatched quickly and ruthlessly by the shrews.

Ætharr growled as more slingstones hit his body and legs, clanging off his armour. He saw the danger of their attacks, and kept his swings short and brutal, slaying any near shrews who approached, enduring the pain of the long-range attacks.

Horal suddenly gave a cry of agony as a shrew stabbed him in the belly. The weasel fell to his knees, even as he waved his own rapier wildly to keep back shrews aiming to finish him off.

"Horal!" Ætharr hurried over to his old friend, now the last one of the original quartet who had known each other for so long. The fifth member, Ptolemy, also hurried over to where Horal lay wounded.

Ætharr stood in front of Horal, challenging the shrews in front of him to kill him if they wanted to get Horal. Seeing that he was the leader of the entire vermin army, many shrews obliged for the chance to end the war.

Log a Log rushed forward, whirling his sword and a loaded sling. However, Ætharr kept him in check with his deadly axes. Soon, a half-circle formed in front of Ætharr, even as several Calador soldiers began leading Horal back to the camps to have his wound treated.

Ptolemy joined up with the Ealdor, blood pour down his face from where a slingstone had cut his snout. He swung his sword viciously, yelling in anger and pain. The Calador soldiers struggled to form an organized battle line, even as more were killed or wounded. The shrews were oblivious of their casualties, and kept coming forward, led on by their leader.

""" """ "" " "" """ """ "" "" "" " "" "" """" "" " " ""

Back at the main area of battle, both sides came together with a loud clash.

Ben growled as he bore the impact of a brawny otter upon his shield. Behind him the ranks pushed forward, threatening to crush the front lines with their strength. The otter swung a loaded sling at point-blank range, attempting to hit Ben's skull, but the raccoon ducked as a pike held by someone behind him came forward to impale the otter. Knocking the corpse forward, Ben swung his shillelagh with all his strength, hoping that Skipper did not see him or try to fight him.

Not far from the raccoon, Cocoran held part of the line with many of his best Falcarragh soldiers. The weasel was as tall as any of the otters, and he swung a fearsome claymore with two hands, discarding any shield. Keening a high-pitched battle challenge in the Falcarragh language, Cocoran was seemingly oblivious to any injuries.

Skipper saw the large weasel and worked his way towards him. Carrying his standard javelin and sling, the otter launched a rock against Cocoran even as the weasel nearly cut another otter in two with his fearsome blade. The stone glanced off the weasel's neck, prompting a hiss of pain from Cocoran. He turned to stare at the offender, and swung his sword at Skipper. Sidestepping the blow, Skipper lunged with his javelin. Cocoran took the point into his shoulder, yelling as he struck with his sword again. Despite his age, Skipper still ducked to avoid the sword again, pulling another stone from his pouch. Forgetting his sling, the otter chieftain simply threw the stone as hard as he could against the Falcarragh leader. The rock took the mighty warrior between his eyes, prompting him to lose his balance. In a flash, the two soldiers near him grabbed their leader and took him behind the ranks, even as the Mossflower forces yelled in triumph.

At the vermin army's left flank, Thornback and Diomede led the Highlanders forward, facing divisions led by Gyras, , and Blackaxe. The Jeri king held his large battleaxe ready, flanked by his best captain, Snauw, armed with a special attack. Several hares would sprint ahead, armed with pikes. These would suddenly be used to allow the hares to vault over the front ranks and into the middle of the vermin forces, disorienting them long enough for the main unit to charge forward and wreak havoc.

Soon, the shield wall was torn in many places, even as hares rushed into the gaps, regardless of casualties. This was a very vicious form of fighting, gutter brawling of the lowest kind. The Highlanders had, for so long, fought in the gang wars, and now they were united in using these acquired skills against the vermin army.

Blackaxe bellowed as he decapitated a hare with his battle-axe, as Snauw battered another down with a mace he had picked up from a fallen comrade.

Gyras led the Calador units on the left flank, defending themselves fiercely against the Highlanders' attacks.

The ordered lines that were so desired by the Calador units in their fights were now reduced to a long block of close-range brawling. The front lines of both armies intermingled, so that theirs was a battle of chaos.

Thornback roared as he slashed at vermin warriors with spear and short sword. A ferret tried to stab his eye, but was instead slashed by a swift sword stroke from the large badger.

Elsewhere, Korari stood in a suit of armour that had belonged to one of his sires. He was coming into his own as Badger Lord of Salamandastron, eager to avenge his fallen brother. However, he did not see Ætharr anywhere.

Not far from the badger, Craterus attempted to hold some sort of ordered battle line, but it was of no use. Spattered in his own blood and the blood of his enemies, the weasel yelled orders at the top of his lungs to no avail.

Judos heard the weasel and noted the underlying panic in Craterus' voice. The otter was also scared. Hares lunged for him, but many went past him when they saw he was an otter. However, when the otter was seen to be fighting alongside the vermin, the hares quickly changed their minds.

Ducking a pike thrust, Judos swung his sword to parry an axe stroke aimed for his head. Beside him, vermin and hare fell to the ground, battered and bleeding. The wounded were ignored, and their cries were lost in the clash of weapons.

Ben ducked behind his shield, even as an otter battered away with an axe. The raccoon snarled as he felled the otter with one blow of his shillelagh. Taking a moment from a lull in fighting, the raccoon leaped onto a nearby rock where the cliffs reared themselves over the beach. he looked out at the long line of battle, and saw, with a thrill of shock, that the battle was turning against the allied vermin army.


	51. Chapter 51

**50  
**

Ætharr swore as another slingstone battered against his leg. He swung his axes with redoubled effort, even as he joined his troops in a shield wall.

The shrews were held back by the organization of the Calador troops. They continued to attack, but the weasels managed to drive them back successfully.

Ignoring the wound on his face, Ptolemy helped the Ealdor rally the Calador soldiers forward, pushing the shrew army back to their logboats.

The shrew leader saw what was happening, and gave a call to retreat. In a flash, the shrews formed a rearguard action, even as many pulled wounded comrades to the boats.

Ætharr threw a throwing hatchet against the shrew chieftain, but missed and slew a shrew next to him. His depleted followers continued to attack, despite their weariness of the fight and their wounds.

The shrew chieftain was last to get onto the boats. He pointed his rapier at Ætharr, "Your forces will fall, Ætharr! We were merely the diversion!"

Ætharr spat, "I shall perish before I leave the mountain still standing!"

The shrew boats began paddling back to the mountain, heading further out to avoid any missiles from the beach.

Ptolemy suddenly yelled out Ætharr's name. The weasel turned to look back along the beach. The camp obscured any sight of the battle, but he could hear faint clashes of metal and horns blowing.

Ætharr felt bolts of fear lick up his body. He had to go back to the rest of his forces.

"Let's go! We must reach the main army and help before it's too late!" Despite the previous fight, Ætharr ran back along the beach, stumbling through the uneven sand.

Ptolemy looked up at one point and saw that the fight had been going on for at least three hours, if the sun's path was any indication.

He gasped at the effort of running back to the main battle area, noting that his old friend and Ealdor was showing no signs of weariness in the name of rallying his forces against possible defeat.

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Judos tripped over the body of a fallen Calador weasel. As he struggled to get up, a kick from a hare's leg nearly knocked him back down again. Gritting his teeth, the otter slashed at the hare's belly with his sword. Ignoring the gore that splattered down next to him, Judos stood up and swung his sword at another hare who had just cut down a Falcarragh fox.

The battle continued to rage amongst the two armies. Bodies seemed to be piled up all along the sand, even as more corpses were added to the battlefield.

Korari assaulted the vermin army's centre unceasingly, directing the Salamandastron hares to break the vermin line in two so that they would fall. Only the efforts of a few surviving officers, such as Craterus, somehow managed to keep the discipline intact.

Captain Sophus stood by his new lord, swinging his sword viciously in defence of his life. Korari continued to batter away with his own sword, even as his armour was pushed to its limits by vermin weapons.

Thornback screamed as he ran a Calador weasel through with his sword. Limping from a throwing hatchet in his leg, the badger continued to fight, refusing to back down at this crucial time which could finally drive back the vermin horde.

Blackaxe used his axe handle to deflect a sword swing from a Highlander, knocking the offending hare away with a swift punch from his leather-clad paw.

He turned to look for Snauw, only to see him knocked back by a pike-thrust. The Jeri captain attempted to strike back with a sabre, but another hare body-slammed into him and the two fighters fell, sprawled out on the ground.

Swiftly leaping away from his discarded sabre, Snauw got on all fours and started strangling the hare with his bare claws, snarling in anger. He failed to see the large figure of Thornback approaching him from behind.

"Snauw! Get out of there!" Blackaxe suddenly screamed. The yell was partially lost in the din of battle, and so Snauw was still looking up in confusion when Thornback struck with his sword blade. Blackaxe stared in horror as Snauw's headless body slumped into the sand, even as the badger waved his spear in the air, "Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Gyras replied to that call as he led a dozen Caladors against Thornback's march. The badger resumed defending himself, even as Highland hares rallied to his stand.

On the far right flank of the army, Ben had also taken a stand upon his rock, swinging down at passing otters and squirrels, crushing helmets and shields with his shillelagh. Several Calador soldiers, including Ben's young friend Antigonus, rallied around the rock, seeking something to put their backs against while fighting.

Skipper, weary from the fight, leaned heavily on his javelin for a breather, flanked by several younger otters. He looked up and saw the raccoon upon his higher ground.

"Ben!"

The raccoon heard the shocked voice and groaned inwardly. He turned to see Skipper, staring at him in anger and surprise. Ben had no time for the reunion, however, as more creatures ran forward to slay the group about the rock. Ben yelled as a slingstone struck his shoulder, even as he leaped down from his rock to save Antigonus from a spear thrust. Skipper began working his way forward towards the raccoon, but was distracted by several Falcarragh troops and was forced to defend himself.

Barely thirty paces away from Skipper, Judos wailed as he swung his sword with increased desperation. The battle was descending into utter butchery, and the otter began to feel that he would face death this terrible day.

Suddenly, he heard several horns call out from behind him, and he turned around.

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Ignoring the wounded in the tents, Ætharr bolted through the mostly-deserted sight of the camp, desperate to reach his forces. The sounds of battle grew louder and louder, until there seemed to be nothing else happening. Forcing himself onward, the Ealdor was followed by Ptolemy, and the survivors of the fight against the shrews.

Finally, he ran past the last line of tents, but the sight of what he saw caused Ætharr to stop in horror. Around him, Ptolemy and the others slowed to a halt as well.

The battle was taking devastating casualties, as could be seen by the fact that the vermin army was stretched so thin in places that their enemies seemed ready to completely break through their lines.

Ætharr almost wanted to slump to the ground as he watched the breaking of his army. He had fought so many battles in his life, yet never had he seen a Calador army so splintered and embroiled in near-defeat.

"We must call a retreat, Ætharr!" Ptolemy yelled into his ear, "We'll be overrun!"

Many vermin were already pulling back. Wounded soldiers were struggling to drag themselves away from the hellish battlefield. Ætharr could see Craterus, covered in blood, wildly waving his weapon in an attempt to rally the forces, but to no avail.

The battle sounds suddenly seemed to dim in Ætharr's ears, as though he was going deaf. The shock of seeing his army so close to defeat suddenly seemed to fill Ætharr with a calm feeling. His weariness seemed to disappear, and his mind began to clear up.

He looked over at Ptolemy, who was still trying to speak to him. He could see the look of horror on the weasel's face, but he did not hear the words coming out of the weasel's mouth.

"Come on, Ptolemy."

The weasel stopped and stared at Ætharr, "What?

The Ealdor gestured to the battle ahead of them, "If it is to end here for us, then we shall make it a glorious end!" He felt the rage coursing through his blood, and as he spoke, he heard the savage edge to his words. He did not care, nor did he notice when Ptolemy stepped back from him in astonishment.

He turned to where the vermin army struggled to continue holding their ground, and gave a loud call, "Sound the horns!"

Those of his soldiers who had brought horns began blowing them, creating a wild sounding of deep music over the battle. Many turned to see what was going on.

Ætharr threw back his head, and yelled "Come on, Caladors and allies! Now is the time where we defy our fates! Now is the moment where we crush our enemies! With all your strength, ATTACK!"

With that, he rushed forward, axes and armour shining in the sun, straight at the large figure of Korari that so threatened the front of his lines. Ptolemy paused only for the briefest of moments before following Ætharr forward, screaming wildly. The others ran forward in a counter-charge without any order, except the order for glory and death.

Soldiers staggered to make way for Ætharr as he rushed forward, screaming his battle cry. Hares rushed forward, trying to slay this mightiest of vermin leaders. No weapon seemed to touch Ætharr, and he drove all before him backward. He strove to rally his forces, calling out for all to fight. Behind him, Ptolemy and the reinforcements sought to fill gaps made by the ferocity of the assault.

Judos stared with awe at Ætharr, who seemed to be single-handedly saving the army from ruin. Korari saw him too, and gave a great challenging roar.

Ætharr matched this roar as he attempted to cut his way through the hares in front of him. All across the line, creatures saw Ætharr's mighty counter-attack and were filled with hope and inspiration.

At that point, Ætharr was unaware of the battle's fate, even as he furiously strove to regain the advantage for his army. Finally, he found himself facing Korari.

The heavily armed badger was not quite as large as Roaveen had been, but there was no doubt that he was a fearsome warrior. Korari advanced upon Ætharr, "You will pay for murdering my brother!"

Ætharr snarled as he swung his axes at the badger. Korari parried the blows with his sword, and a great ring was made for the two combatants. Craterus and Ptolemy stood by and watched in anxious anticipation.

Ætharr ducked a sword swing and struck a blow upon the badger's armoured body. Roaring in pain, Korari back-swung, knocking the weasel to the side. Recovering quickly, Ætharr swung a flurry of blows against the badger, screaming and showing all his sharp teeth. Once again, Ætharr was in the grips of the Bloodwrath, a sight that was astonishing to any Salamandastron hare or ally who saw it.

Korari attempted to ward off the attacks, but despite his anger and his cause, he was not the warrior to slay Ætharr. The weasel struck blow upon blow against the badger's armour, which was already dented from the hours of combat upon the beach in the hot weather.

Finally, the armour came away, hacked apart by the furious assault of Ætharr. Korari backed away to prepare another swing of his large sword, but in his haste, he slipped on one of the many bodies lying around the battlefield. Ætharr swung furiously once again, and buried one of his axe blades into Korari's leg. Ignoring the badger's scream of pain, Ætharr raised his axes again to kill Korari.

Even as he sought to slay Korari now, just as he had slain Roaveen, a loud roar sounded, and from out of the crowd came Thornback, as fast as his limp allowed.

Ætharr parried the lunging spear that was sent his way, and gave a snarl as he slashed at the second badger. Even as Korari was shouldered by his hares and taken away, Thornback and Ætharr duelled fiercely.

Ben saw the charge, and was astounded. He saw that a great lull had occurred in the fighting due to this fight with the champions of both armies. The raccoon saw a chance, and waved his shillelagh, "Rally! Charge! In the name of Ætharr!"

The vermin, roused by Ben's yell, gave a great cry, "Ætharr!" and lunged forward again, striking against hare, otter, and squirrel.

The battle slowly turned back to the side of the vermin. Groups of vermin rallied their remaining strength and fought with the desperation given to soldiers in the most dire situations.

All the while, Ætharr fought against Thornback. The scarred badger looked savage as he slashed at the weasel with spear and sword, both of which being sticky with blood.

Ætharr matched strike for strike with his axes, unaware of the tide turning back to his army's side.

Thornback, however, saw better than the Ealdor, and so with one final rush that sent Ætharr backwards, Thornback began retreating in rearguard fashion, "Pull back! Pull back!"

Instead of pursuing Thornback, Ætharr gave a yell, "Rally to me!"

Vermin did so, regardless of tribal loyalty. They ran to the leader who had always given them victory despite the odds. Even the wounded struggled to answer Ætharr's call. All across the battlefield, the vermin headed to the centre, even as the Salamandastron forces and their allies pulled back to the mountain.

Judos could hardly believe it. They had won. So close to defeat, they had nevertheless been able to hold, and win.

As he looked around, though, he felt sick. The dead lay innumerable, butchered into shapes that did not resemble animals anymore.

Still from where he had made his stand, Ben saw that close to half of all the vermin were dead or wounded. The Salamandastron forces hadn't been much better off, but Ben knew that this was no true victory for Ætharr.

No cheers sounded. All were too busy trying to find fallen comrades, or tend to wounds. There was no joy in this victory.

Judos sat in the sand, tears of weariness and relief on his face. Many others were in this same position. So many had died, and they had come so close to utter defeat.

At the centre of it, stood Ætharr, no longer in the grips of Bloodwrath. He too, was overcome. He gave orders for the dead and the wounded in a low voice, his movements slowed down in the midst of all this sorrow and destruction.

Ptolemy approached the otter, "Let's go back to the camp, Judos."

Judos nodded, and dropped his sword in the sand. He never did find it again, but at that point, or any point after, he did not care. He was convinced only of the fact that he would never fight another battle again if he could help it.

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At the mountain, the allied forces were again demoralized by their defeat. It had been so close, too close! Once again, Ætharr had prevailed. And at such a cost to all sides in the fight.

Korari and Thornback sat together in silence, ashamed of their failure to slay Ætharr. There was something unthinkable about this weasel's love and prowess for warfare.

They were joined by Skipper, Colonel Seahawk, Lt. Col. Jackers, Adisa, and Log a Log.

Seahawk gave both brothers hot bowls of soup, "Don't worry, lads. Ætharr will 'ave lost most of his army in today's fight. I think we'll be seeing his undoing soon."

Thornback stared resentfully at Skipper, "Where in all blazes is this warrior of yours? He could end all this by slaying Ætharr, so why doesn't he?"

Skipper sighed, "I don't know, mates. I doubted it when I first heard it, but Martin the Warrior has always proven himself to be right in these things."

Adisa carefully sat down so as not to move his bandaged arm any more than he needed to, "All the same, we would not survive another battle such as what we just fought."

Korari nodded, "Tomorrow, we go back on the defensive. We've worn out Ætharr's forces, so we'll see if they want to keep fighting."

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At the vermin camps, all were quiet and subdued, except for the screams and sobs of the wounded. So many were dead on the battlefield, and many more died of their wounds that evening.

Including Horal. The Guosim shrew's blade had done its work. Ætharr had stood by his old friend, watching helplessly as Horal had breathed his last, paws gripping his weapons. After Horal had died, the Ealdor had shut himself away in his tent, refusing to speak to anybody. By that point, the sun had finally set, leaving a blue-black sky twinkling with faint starlight.

Judos lay on his back, staring up at the stars, trying to ignore the distant sounds of feasting. The seabirds and crows were plundering the ample amount of bodies left over from the conflict. The smell of death was hanging along the beach like an invisible shadow. Judos wished he could leave this place. Anywhere seemed better than here.

He was suddenly approached by a Calador soldier, "Theign Judos? The Ealdor wishes to speak to you."

Judos suddenly felt a terrible feeling of anger and hatred for Ætharr. His friend's bloody-mindedness had led to all this horrific death. The otter sat up and glared at the guard, "Have him come here and ask me that himself!"

The guard, rather than look mortified by Judos' insult, nodded slowly, "He said you might react something like this, and he can only beg his old friend to come speak to him about something urgent. He wants nobody else to hear what he has to say to you."

Judos frowned, and reluctantly got up on his feet.

When they got to Ætharr's tent, the place was deserted. Indeed, when Judos was about to enter, he noticed that the guard had gone away from the tent, clearly having been forbidden on pain of death not to eavesdrop.

Entering the tent, Judos saw his friend hunched over in his chair, holding an empty flask and looking towards the far corner of his tent.

"Hello, Judos," said Ætharr in a very low and surprisingly humble voice.

Judos was suddenly curious as to what this was all about, "Are you alright, Ætharr?"

The weasel turned to look at the otter, and Judos saw that Ætharr had been crying, "I've been thinking on what you said to me before."

Judos was confused; he couldn't remember what he had said before, it felt like weeks ago instead of the previous evening, "What are you talking about?"

The weasel lay down the empty flask, "You said that I would not be redeemed or content with the taking of Salamandastron."

Judos nodded, "And you're realizing that I was right?"

"I think I knew it was true all along," Ætharr commented sadly. He looked up at his friend, "All my life I've done what was best for Calador. It is what the Ealdor must do to protect his people."

Judos felt that surge of anger again, "Protect them? Protect them by sending them to die by the thousands on a beach miles from home? Every drop of blood that's been spilled here is because of you!"

Ætharr got up, staggering slightly, "Roaveen helped murder my son!"

"You abandoned Rosheen and your living children!" Judos nearly screamed.

For a second, the otter thought that Ætharr would attack him. Instead, the weasel simply swayed where he stood, his expression thunderous. However, his voice was calm when he spoke again, "What did you say?"

Judos glared at the drunken weasel before him, "You didn't have to come to Salamandastron, Ætharr. You avenged the murder of Ædron when you killed Ibos and drove out the Vireo tribe. You blighted a thousand lives in the name of Ibos' betrayal and your son's death. But that just wasn't enough for you, was it? You wanted any excuse to invade Salamandastron! So instead of going home to your family and your country you've led thousands to their deaths!"

Ætharr said nothing for a while, slowly sitting back down, anger wiped from his face. Judos stood where he was, unsure of what to do.

Finally, Ætharr looked up at Judos again, "I couldn't let Roaveen live for what he did to Calador."

Judos sighed angrily, "He was never going to come back! He posed no threat to us on our own soil! You reopened an old wound by coming here." Speaking of that, Judos remembered something else, "And all those weeks you were with your family, you were just thinking of war and planning another grand invasion while leaving Rosheen and your other children to fend for themselves."

Ætharr shook his head, "That's not true! I was helping them! I gave them a chance to recover and feel happy again! I gave them happy memories in case I..." He did not finish the last sentence, but what he had said was enough for Judos to understand.

"Why couldn't you have let it go, Ætharr?" Judos asked sadly, "Why did so many of us have to die because you couldn't get over your son's murder? Or was it because you wanted one more kingdom to rule?"

Ætharr spat in disgust, "Calador's enemies would be defeated once and for all!" When the otter did not respond, Ætharr spoke again, in a more defensive tone, "How could I forget Ædron?"

Judos closed his eyes, "I'm not saying you had to forget him, but you could have looked to your living children and let him rest in peace."

"He didn't rest in peace," Ætharr remarked darkly, "He came back to me in my dreams. He would never leave! I would see him as I always saw my father... no rest from it, always reminding me that I had failed them somehow." He looked angrily in the direction of where the mountain was, "I came so close!"

Judos looked at his friend, and he knew that Ætharr could never change, and would only get worse. He felt sadness possess him as he beheld the wreck in front of him, "You were so noble, Ætharr. You convinced me that all I'd heard about vermin was wrong. But you let your hate and your anger destroy you."

Ætharr heard the tone of the otter's comments, and stood up again, facing Judos with a suddenly direct look, "I loved my son. And I loved my father. If anything undid me, it was my love for them!"

"And your ambition, which clouded your judgment and made you confuse love with obsession," Judos remarked, but there was no more malice in his words. He felt only pity for his friend.

Ætharr sat back down slowly, and sat his chair down to the small table near his cot. He took a piece of parchment and began writing, "I just need to give you your orders for tomorrow and what is to be done when our army recovers its strength. For the sake of all that I've done for you and Calador, Judos, will you please put aside your disagreements with my conduct and help me end this war once and for all? If our next strategy works, it can end the conflict for good."

Yet another strategy, yet another attempt to win, Judos thought to himself bitterly. The otter stood where he was for a while, his expression difficult to read, but then he nodded, "I promise."

Ætharr nodded slowly, "When you leave tonight, make sure to tell the guards to change shifts. Everyone could use a bit of rest tonight."

The otter nodded again, "Just tell me what you want taken care of."


	52. Chapter 52

**51  
**

It was as if the night, in an attempt to mock the previous day, became especially calm and peaceful after all the blood that had been spilled into the beaches.

Salamandastron stood tall, unconquered still despite anything that had commenced over the last few days. The guards continued to patrol and look out to the vermin camp, unsure of what to make of this stubborn army.

Thornback, his leg bandaged, limped along down one of the corridors overlooking the vermin camp in the distance. He grumbled to himself when pain shot up his body from the wound he'd gained, using his spear as a walking staff.

"Can't sleep?"

Thornback turned around to peer at the shadows behind him, which were at their darkest where the passage began to curve, "Aye. The wound was keeping me awake, so I decided to patrol."

Prince Diomede caught up with the badger, keeping pace with him as they continued their patrol, "I couldn't sleep either. So I took the place of one of the guards tonight."

Thornback nodded, "I don't think many will sleep soundly tonight."

Diomede shuddered, "I didn't think I was going to survive that battle."

"You were lucky. But you also fought well. Your brother would be proud of you."

"Priam's opinion of someone has never changed with a judgment on fighting abilities. I thought that's why he made the better king?"

"Partly, yes, but you're helping me lead the Highlanders against a dangerous threat. Nobody asked you to help, you volunteered to do some good. Such an action is worthy of respect as far as I'm concerned."

Diomede nodded, "I'd have imagined that Maon or Earnan would have gone with you." Since Priam had taken his throne in the Highlands, Maon and his cousin Earnan had taken high office in the new administration, not as much for their connections to the king but for their proven abilities as warriors and, in Maon's case, leading others with honesty and integrity.

Thornback smiled at the thought of his dear friend back in the Highlands, "Maon would be happy if he never fights again, especially now that he has Harmonia and the children to keep him busy." By the last count, Maon and Harmonia had a dozen leverets to feed by this point, and all of them were growing fast.

Diomede suddenly glanced out the window, "Take a look at this, I think I see something."

Thornback limped over to look where Diomede was pointing. Peering into the darkness, he thought he saw movement.

"How many?" Thornback whispered.

"I think I only saw one," Diomede whispered back, "otherwise why haven't the other guards noticed anything?"

The badger surveyed the slope of the mountain. Since they were on the first floor above the ground level, it was only a short climb.

"Prepare to climb down. I'll throw down a torch, and on that signal, if it's just one, you can sound the alarm and get him by surprise."

Diomede nodded, and hurried to pick up the nearest torch hanging on the wall. Taking it from the hare, Thornback prepared to throw it as Diomede got into position.

After a moment, Thornback threw the torch downwards where he had seen the movement. As the torch illuminated the ground where it had fallen, the badger saw the silhouette of a creature bolt away into the darkness.

"ALARM!" Thornback and Diomede yelled, the latter leaping down with a drawn sword.

At once, other guards came running with arrows already on their bowstrings, "What is it?"

"A spy!" Thornback hissed, still looking for Diomede or the intruder. The lone light of the torch had left them unaware of where either creatures were.

Suddenly Diomede called out, "Thornback!"

"What is it?" The badger called out.

"Open the gate."

Thornback paused, "What's wrong?"

"Open the gate and come down here, please!" The badger noted that there was an edge of panic in the hare's voice.

"He's been captured!" The badger cursed to the guards. Standing up, the badger responded, "How do I know that you're not being held hostage, and when I open the gates, we'll be under attack?"

There was a pause, and from out of the dark, Diomede spoke again, "It's just one of them. He says that he's not come for a fight, and that he's holding me so that you don't kill him on sight."

Thornback frowned, "Why should we trust one who sneaks in the night like a common thief?"

Another voice suddenly called out again, "Thornback, I mean no harm to any in this mountain. I've come here because I do not believe in my allies' cause anymore."

Thornback growled to himself. A vermin who wanted to be on the winning side, "I don't care for your doubt or your betrayal, vermin!"

"I'm not one of them. I'm an otter."

Thornback paused in surprise, "Judos?"

There was a pause, and then the voice replied, "How do you know my name?"

"There are folk here who have been expecting you," Thornback replied.

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Judos was taken inside, watched carefully by the grim-faced hares that had cause to call him an enemy. Thornback and Diomede (who was bitter over Judos having been able to hold him hostage) led him into the great hall of Salamandastron, where the Badger Lords sat in reverence.

Korari, also bandaged from the previous fight, was dressed humbly, having no such vanity as his brother had had. Clad only in a brown tunic and a sable-coloured belt, the badger looked at Judos with curiosity rather than malice. Standing amongst these creatures, Judos felt fearful not just at the thought of coming here amongst his former enemies, but also that they knew something important that he did not know.

"So, Judos," Korari began in a solemn voice, "Why did you come to us after all this time with the enemy?"

Judos paused, looking around at the few creatures still awake at this hour, watching him with neutral, even hostile faces. Slowly, he turned back to look at Korari.

"I have escaped my illusions of Calador and its leader. I'm here to redeem myself." The otter, weaponless and alone, stood as still as he could, worried that some in this hall needed any excuse to kill him.

"How would you redeem yourself for serving our enemies and slaying our comrades?" Korari asked, and even without anger or hostility, the question seemed to send shivers down Judos' back.

"I will fight for you, I will meet Ætharr in battle," Judos said, louder with confidence he did not feel, "and I will kill him."

Diomede and Thornback exchanged looks of surprise. Korari leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the otter's.

"Judos!"

Judos turned at the sudden yell, paling beneath his fur as he recognized a voice he had not heard in so long.

Skipper rushed forward, silver-furred and slower in his advanced age, but still as hearty as ever. He was followed by small group of other creatures, one of which being the Log a Log of the Guosim. Skipper stared at Judos with shock, but without any malice, "You made it!"

Judos stared at Skipper, now able to look him in the eye since he'd last seen him, "You say that as if I was expected..."

"That's a long story, but that can wait!" Skipper said, clapping Judos on the shoulder, "Look at ye. You grew up tall and strong."

Judos nodded, and was about to reply, when he noticed a strange creature not far behind Skipper, staring at him with horror and loathing.

Skipper followed his gaze, and his face grew less mirthful. He indicated the creature, "This is Adisa, a civet. 'E came to Redwall some time ago and now lives there."

Judos bowed his head respectfully, and with seemingly great reluctance, the civet returned the gesture.

"Forgive me," Adisa suddenly said in a foreign accent, "You remind me very much of someone who I have hated for a long time. I did not expect that."

Judos was more confused than ever. He looked from Skipper to Adisa to Thornback, to the hares, to Korari, unsure of what to do or say.

"Skipper," Korari intervened, "You must understand that we have questions we'd like answered from this otter before anything else occurs."

Skipper nodded slowly, "Aye. Very well." He went and took a seat.

"Judos, you speak of wishing to end this war for us, as compensation for your fighting with the enemy," Korari stated, "But why do you come now?"

Judos sighed, "Because when I had nothing, and was sentenced to die in a prison camp, Ætharr saved my life and offered me a home and a place to live. Because I considered Ætharr a friend, even when we marched here and began fighting. Because I saw vermin murder Ætharr's son, vermin that Roaveen had helped, and I convinced myself that Ætharr had been justified in coming here for revenge."

He took a breath and spoke again, "But now I see that Ætharr is no longer the creature of honour and sense as he once was. He has allowed his cruelty to control his decisions, and he will not stop until one side of this conflict lies in utter destruction."

"Who is this vermin that you have been with him for so long?" Thornback asked.

Judos looked up at the badger, allowing just a hint of defiance in his voice, "He was an honourable leader and someone who was capable of good despite anything said about vermin."

Skipper sighed, "He's led to the deaths of thousands on both sides, Judos."

"I know," Judos remarked, "And it has been weighing on me ever since we first marched out from Calador."

Korari spoke again, "So what has changed about Ætharr that no longer made him honourable or good?"

"He has always loved war, even when he doesn't admit it," Judos replied after a moment, "And he has never been able to let go of grievances or injuries. He fought a war for several seasons to avenge his father's death and reclaim his rightful place as Ealdor. He forged an alliance of tribes because it would ensure that Calador would never lose control or power ever again. When his eldest son was murdered, he spent weeks preparing this invasion, biding his time. He has lost many friends and soldiers in this campaign, and it is crippling him with guilt. But he will not stop. He will not stop until he is killed. For if he is victorious, it will not give him the solace he seeks."

The allied leaders looked at each other, and gathered together to begin whispering amongst one another. Judos looked around at the details of the massive hall carved out of the mountain, and he noticed that several others had come to listen in on what was being said.

Korari addressed Judos again, "Did he trust you?"

Judos looked back at the badger, "As a brother."

"So he must have told you what he plans to do next," Korari concluded, "Does he plan any new attack?"

Judos nodded, "He will maintain the siege, and call for reinforcements to join him from Calador and the other tribes. He had left many professional soldiers to guard his homeland, and there is also the fyrd."

"Fyrd?" Skipper asked.

"Conscription," Judos replied, "Calador has always been a nation prepared for war, and most of the adults in Calador are able to fight with some sort of weapon."

"But the majority of those reinforcements won't be proper soldiers like we've been fighting, then," Log a Log remarked.

Judos nodded in agreement, but then offered a reminder, "You must also remember that the others will summon the remainder of their forces too. This war of attrition will continue for weeks if it is allowed to continue. I have another solution."

The leaders were giving Judos their full attention, as was every other creature in the hall.

"What is this solution?" Korari asked.

Judos paused, as if gathering up his courage, and continued, "I will offer to fight Ætharr in personal combat. I have fought alongside him for a long time, and I know his strategies better than anyone now living. I will have him and the others swear to leave these shores if I win."

"And if you lose?" Thornback asked.

Judos shrugged, "Then you resume your defences and continue the struggle. I won't make you gamble on me if I can help it."

Korari shook his head, "He won't accept that."

"Yes he will," Judos countered quickly, "I have betrayed him in such a way that very few have ever done, and he has put a blade to hundreds of children's throats to inflict his revenge. When he came to Salamandastron he offered Roaveen the chance to fight him in single combat if his hares vowed to yield Salamandastron in peace when Roaveen died."

Korari looked to two of his officers, a young adult and two very old and highly decorated veterans. All three nodded to confirm Judos' story.

Thornback gave Judos a level look, "Alright, Judos. We'll send a message to the vermin camp tomorrow. And I hope that some power sees your good intentions and gives you victory."

Judos nodded, "Thank you."

Skipper stood up, "You'll need a weapon, Judos. And it's been foreseen which sword you'll wield against Ætharr."

He suddenly took a bundle from the table and unwrapped it. Judos' eyes widened as the sword of Martin the Warrior was revealed to him.

Skipper offered Judos the sword, hilt-first, "Martin the Warrior saw that you'd come back, and he gave us a prophecy to help us prepare."

Judos was bewildered, "What was this prophecy?"

Skipper repeated the words that he had said only the evening before,

"_One day, as the red sun begins to set,  
And armies stand beneath the lonely peak_,  
_The conqueror, his taste for war to whet,  
__Shall his impossible ambition seek,_

_Long he has fought, and many he has slain,  
But the mighty axe shall break against rock  
Much blood will flow, and into the sands drain,  
Against any chance to cease, he will baulk  
_

_But one shall emerge, some say from the dead  
A conqueror's friend, keeper of his soul  
Former thief alone can slay the great dread  
And with mine own sword, he shall be made whole_

_So go to the west shore, and aid thy friends  
May a worthy warrior stand before the end!"_

Judos felt the power of those words move through him. Martin the Warrior's words truly felt prophetic when he thought of how things had unfolded. It made him suddenly feel like a pawn in a great game, only now realizing what he had been meant to do.

Skipper was puzzled when Judos did not take up the sword, and noticed the otter's change of mood, "What's wrong?"

Judos looked Skipper in the eye, "I feel like my choice has been robbed from me."

Skipper shook his head, "You didn't know about this prophecy before! You made your choice to do what you saw was the right thing!"

Judos nodded slowly as he thought about it, "Yes. Yes I did." Slowly, he picked up the sword from Skipper's arms, "I will use this sword in my fight against Ætharr, and I will fulfill what I've promised to do."

Thumping of weapons and clapping of paws sounded at Judos' declaration.

Suddenly, he looked at Skipper, even as the adulation continued, "Skipper, I have been away from Redwall for a long time. How is Abbot Varrus?"

Skipper paused, his face draining of any emotion except misery. Before Judos could say anything again, he replied, "Varrus passed away some time ago."

Judos sighed and nodded, surprising even himself when tears pricked at his eyes. The old abbot had always been kind to him, even when he had earned punishment after punishment through his own defiance.

The otter took a moment to compose himself before asking another question, "Who is Abbott now?"

"Conrad," Skipper answered.

Judos nodded absentmindedly, not remembering enough about Conrad to have anything to say.

"Are ye alright, Judos?" Skipper asked tentatively. Judos could see that the old otter was concerned for Judos' well-being. He nodded, "I'll be alright. I hadn't really thought much of anyone at Redwall for quite some time, that's all."

Skipper patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, "Get some rest. Focus on defeating Ætharr and stopping any more deaths than there have already been."

Judos nodded and was escorted to a room where he could stay.

Adisa approached Skipper when Judos had left the hall, "You did not say anything about what we found out."

Skipper suddenly gave the civet an angry look, "Judos doesn't need to know tonight!"

"But he must know sooner rather than later," Adisa persisted, "If what you say is true, then he will return to Redwall after all this is over. What will happen when he comes back and has no idea of what took place?"

Skipper sighed, "There will be time to tell 'im about Varrus and everything else after we end this conflict. Judos 'as enough to worry about right now."

Adisa grudgingly nodded, "Very well." The two of them stood where they were, even as others went back to bed, leaving the hall. Adisa looked up at Skipper again, "Do you believe he can defeat the warlord?"

Skipper nodded, eyes shining, "I've known Judos since he was a young pup. I 'elped raise him, look after 'im, and I watched him grow up. When he ran away, I searched for him for a long time, because I knew something terrible would happen to 'im. It broke my heart when I thought he was dead, for I had always seen that he could have been something glorious once he'd overcome 'is anger and resentment." The old otter looked back to where Judos had disappeared, "I saw that tonight when he took up the sword of Redwall's defender. He is Martin the Warrior's successor, chosen to protect us from threats he has come to understand so well. He'll prove it tomorrow when he slays Ætharr."

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Vermin hurriedly emerged from their tents the next morning, called up by a loud alarm from the guards.

A delegation walked across the sands of the beach, with their army slowly emerging from the mountain and taking space out on the mountainsides.

The delegation flew a flag of truce, and was comprised of Thornback, Seahawk, Jackers, Korari, Skipper, Log a Log, Adisa, and Judos.

The otter felt shivers of fear as he looked at his former comrades. All who saw him, particularly the Caladors, raised up a call of anguish and rage. Accusations flew at Judos, but because the delegation had come in peace, none challenged the otter directly. The otter noticed Ben amongst the vermin, a

The leaders of the tribes emerged, recoiling with horror at the sight of Judos amongst their foes.

"You traitor!" Gyras roared, shaking his fist and cursing Judos with venomous spirit. Ptolemy simply stared at his former friend and bowed his head, as if heartbroken by what he saw. This somehow stung Judos more than any anger that came from the vermin around him.

Finally, Ætharr emerged from the tents and collected soldiers. He stared at Judos with a look that seemed blank and devoid of emotion.

All of a sudden he turned to his outraged followers and gave a great bellow of rage, "Silence! Silence, all of you!"

The vermin quieted down, looking in surprise at their leader, who continued speaking angrily to them while turning to look back at Judos, "If anyone here has the right to feel angry, it is me. But you all see what has happened here, so I shall let your eyes speak for me this time." Judos matched Ætharr's glare with a cold look of his own, for anything else would have broken him at this point.

Korari suddenly spoke, "Ætharr, we have a proposition for you."

The Ealdor glanced at the Badger Lord with utter disdain, "What do you want?"

Ignoring the contempt in Ætharr's voice, Korari spoke again, "We shall send a champion against you in honest, single combat. No tricks, only the honour of a trial by combat."

Ætharr continued to look at the creatures before him, saying nothing for a moment. As he paused, all went silent to hear what he would say. Judos could feel that he was the focus of not just the vermin, but Skipper and Thornback as well as they were curious to see how he was taking this.

Finally, the Ealdor spoke, "What are your terms?"

Korari began to reply, "If you lose..."

"I wasn't talking to you, badger," Ætharr interrupted with a snarl, pointedly looking at Judos, "You clearly have your champion here. If he is truly your champion, then let him face me and deliver the terms of our fight."

Judos stepped forward, rising to the challenge, "This fight has gone on for too long, Ætharr. So I want oaths from you and the rest of the chiefs and their officers, upon their entrance to the Great Warriors' Hall, that they will lead their armies back home and no longer trouble these shores."

Ætharr slowly nodded, noting that Judos had referenced an oath that would be, amongst these warriors, unthinkable to break. For to enter the Great Hall after death was the highest honour for a true warrior.

He cocked his head to one side, "And if I kill you?"

Judos paused, but then spoke again, "Then you shall have avenged a terrible betrayal."

Ætharr leered at the others, "You don't promise me the mountain's surrender? You don't trust him to win?"

Judos spoke again, "You didn't let me finish, Ætharr. They will also leave the mountain to you if I lose, so long as you promise to spare them and allow them safe passage away from these lands."

Ætharr nodded, and looked at his allies, "I will agree to this. Any objections to taking those oaths?"

The rest of them shook their heads. Blackaxe spoke for them, "We shall swear the oaths too."

The Ealdor turned back to the delegation, "Swear by all you hold dear that if I die, all those who followed me here may return safely to their homes."

Korari nodded, "We will swear these oaths too."

Ætharr looked at the mass of vermin gathered near, "Somebody who can write, come here and record the terms."

Thus a scribe was brought out to prepare two different sets of parchment, each one detailing the same words that both sides agreed too. Oaths were made before the witnesses, and also written down. One by one, each of the chiefs and officers on both sides put their signatures down on each sheet of parchment. Judos and Ætharr were the last ones to sign their names.

By the time all was settled, the noon sun had begun to move across the sky from its highest point. Ætharr handed the delegation their copy, and entrusted the other copy to Ptolemy, "We shall fight in one hour, if there are no objections."

Judos answered before anyone else could say anything, "Done. One hour it is."

Ætharr nodded and turned to leave. Judos watched him go back to his tent, preparing for this fight to the death. Judos felt fear grip his insides as he thought of what was going to happen this day.

The delegation turned back and went to the mountain, where their army was seeking shade from the sun or having a quick meal.

Korari spoke to them all, "It's been decided. In an hour, the fate of this war will be decided."


	53. Chapter 53

**52**

Judos stared at the figure in front of him, chills crawling through his body like hungry ants eating away at a carcass.

He never thought he would be back on this side, never dreamed he'd be wielding the Sword of Martin again, and he had certainly hoped he'd never have to fight Ætharr.

Yet there he stood, fearsome in his rich armour, carrying his long-handled axe and his hand axe with its bearded blade. The weasel stood straight-backed, in front of his army. To Judos, Ætharr looked like a guardian to the gates of Dark Forest.

He had gone too far. So many on all sides were now dead thanks to the Ealdor. He had unleashed a furious vengeance upon those responsible for his son's death and he would continue to soak the world in blood to drown his grief. It had to end before it was too late.

Judos stood still, waiting for his former friend to step forward, but the two stood on opposite ends of the battlefield.

Suddenly, Skipper and the other Redwallers began cheering for Judos. The hares of Salamandastron joined in, until a bellowing chorus of 'Redwall!" and "Eulalia!" rang out.

The surprise of the sudden sound caused Judos to step forward, and he knew then that whether he liked it or not, he was going to fight the mightiest Ealdor that Calador had ever known.

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Ætharr stepped forward almost immediately after Judos had. While the forces of Salamandastron, Redwall, and the Highlands were cheering their champion on, the forces of Ætharr were silent. Perhaps they were stunned by the events unfolding in front of them, or maybe they saw the event as too solemn and tense for chants and cheers.

Ætharr hefted his axes, the axes that he had used most of his life in battle. He had once had two long-handled axes, but one had broken, and he had taken the hand axe from a rat he'd slain in the wars against Oorlog. He remembered that fight well; he remembered almost every skirmish, battle, or duel he'd had in his life.

He suddenly had an urge to look back and see his soldiers again, but he dared not. This was a terrible moment for such actions, and anything could betray a weakness in him, and his memory would be tarnished forever.

He and Judos were closing the gap between them, and Ætharr fancied he could make out the expression on Judos' face. There was some kind of fear, but whatever there was had been veiled by a look of resigned determination.

Ætharr suddenly smiled wanly as he noticed the gaudily decorated shield that Judos carried, and he also noticed the Sword of Martin in Judos' hands. It was too small for him, but Ætharr knew that Judos was well skilled with it.

The weasel felt bitter, but he was determined to conceal this emotion. Now was the moment to give way to glory, to his moment when all those present could see him fight against his old friend and ally.

It was time.

""" "" "" "" "" """ "" """ "" "" ""

Judos gave a quiet exhale as he locked eyes with the weasel.

Ætharr nodded curtly, "How does it feel to face me in battle after all this time?" His voice, strangely lacking in accusation, seemed to boom in the air. The cheering had stopped, and it seemed even the sea had calmed down so it could easier carry the conversation to those who listened.

Judos lifted his shield, "I feel nothing." It was true. He felt so empty inside, standing here, speaking with the creature that he was to slay or be slain by. How could two creatures speak before such an occasion?

Ætharr seemed to leer, but Judos recognized then that it was a grimace. Did he too feel as Judos felt?

The weasel spoke again, "You have come here with a task. Are you prepared to fulfill it?"

It was as though he was speaking to a servant, or a child. Judos felt embarrassed, and the anger at the condescension gave him a louder voice.

"I shall end it here, Ætharr! You have gone too far, and you would not stop until the very sea turned red! I shall make sure that it is your blood only that spills now."

It was then that Ætharr suddenly smiled. It was no smile of cheer or warmth; Judos reckoned that all joy in Ætharr had died with his son. It was a wolfish smile, one that showed his sharp teeth and accentuated the savage look which had increasingly characterized his face. Was this how it was to face Ætharr in battle? Judos suddenly felt empathy to the possible hundreds of foes that had met this weasel and died.

The Ealdor raised his axes, "You will soon find that my blood will not spill easily."

Judos did not doubt it.

Suddenly the weasel threw back his head and roared a battle cry. Such a display chilled many a warrior's heart, but Judos knew what had to be done, and he knew that this fight would not be won by battle cries. Judos suddenly felt lighter, and he gave a yell of his own to match that of Ætharr's.

Otter and weasel then charged forward, each ready to fight to the death.

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Ætharr saw the sword in Judos' hand lunging forward for his ribs, and he counter swung with his hand axe. In his other hand his long axe swung for Judos' neck, only to be deflected by Judos' shield.

The impact drove Judos back three paces, and the otter began circling the weasel. Each knew of the other's fighting styles, and so they would both be trying out different strategies in an effort to confuse the other.

Ætharr began pacing in a circular direction, snarling as he waited for Judos to charge forward.

Judos obliged, with a fearsome swing prepared. Ætharr swung his long axe out to deflect the blow, but Judos had already doubled back and swung from the opposite side.

Anger coursed through the weasel as he recognized he'd been fooled, but with the amazing speed of his, he dodged the blow and rammed his hand axe forward towards Judos' chest.

""" """ """" """ """ "" "" ""

The front of the hand axe took Judos right in the lower ribs, before he could cover it with his shield. The attack had not meant to be fatal. Ætharr was going to wear Judos down.

Judos gasped for air as he leaped away to the right. Falling awkwardly, he scrambled to climb back to his feet in the sand.

Ætharr snarled behind him, and without looking Judos abandoned recovering his stance and leaped away to the left. He heard the blade of the axe sink where he'd just stood.

Judos stood up and turned to face the weasel again. Ætharr roared triumphantly and charged, his arms swinging his axes in a maelstrom of death.

"" " """ "" """ """ """" """"" """ " ""

Judos felt fear as he watched the whirling axe blades coming closer, and he knew that he had one chance.

Pulling his arm out of the straps, he dropped his sword and threw his shield like an oversized discus.

The shield slammed into the Ealdor's stomach. He gasped in anger and pain, temporarily stopped by Judos' counter attack.

Judos made a rapid zig-zag approach, slashing his sword at Ætharr. The weasel dodged the sword, only to be hit by Judos' heavy tail.

Ætharr snarled and at such close range, he bulled forward, body slamming Judos. Weasel and otter almost flew in the air before landing.

Still holding his weapons, Ætharr could not use his paws, and instead leaned forward and bit Judos' shoulder until he taste blood.

Judos screamed in pain, and with his free paw, grabbed Ætharr by the throat. The weasel hissed in surprise, and let go of his long axe to push himself away off of Judos.

Judos leaped up, facing Ætharr in a fighting stance. Both creatures now held only a single weapon, both meant for close quarters.

Recognizing this, they lunged forward, swinging their weapons at each other. They ducked and weaved, still attacking with their weapons. Neither made any hits, but the fight that they were carrying out was a legendary spectacle. Both sides stared as the tension mounted.

Minutes passed in a time that seemed to take hours. Neither weasel nor otter seemed weary, and their attacks were as vicious as ever.

Judos ducked away from Ætharr's latest swing. He noticed that the sun had started to colour the sky as it started to sink. The approach of night seemed to add more tension to this fight. He had to keep this up, until he could find a chance to strike.

The weasel was fighting as well as he'd ever fought. Sword and axe were blurs in the air, and their clashing together made noises that the gods themselves could hear.

It was Ætharr who broke through Judos' defences first. As Judos had done before, he pretended to swing, but just as Judos moved to avoid it, he swung a punch at the otter's face. Judos felt the area around his eye explode in pain, and he swung his tail again, hitting Ætharr's leg and nearly knocking him off his feet. He swung for the weasel's head but Ætharr deflected it with the blade of his axe.

Ætharr swung his axe for a blow aimed at Judos' midriff, and the otter saw a chance that would end the battle.

Judos suddenly jumped off the ground in a sailing leap to the left. The axe, which had just started to swing, was stopped by Judos' flying body. The blade passed through the armour, and bit into Judos' side.

Judos felt the pain, but knew that this was his chance. Even as the axe bit into his skin, Judos lunged.

The sword of Martin, slayer of so many beasts, sunk into Ætharr's chest.

The weasel's eyes widened in surprise, and he almost let go of the axe in his paws.

Judos let go of the sword to pull the axe out of his side. The injury was bleeding, but was surprisingly just a flesh wound. Still, he felt faintly sick at the thought of what he had risked to end this battle.

He turned to look at Ætharr, who had lowered his weapon. The weasel stared into Judos' eyes, and he stood stock still.

The otter wanted to look away, but he knew that he couldn't. He suddenly felt the flush of victory. He had done what so many others had failed to do.

He had bested Ætharr in a fight. The Ealdor was dying.

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Ætharr looked down at the hilt of the blade, almost entranced by the ruby in the pommel. A good sword. A good death.

He looked back at Judos, who simply stood and stared at the weasel. Ætharr felt something in his throat, and he coughed, spitting out the liquid collecting in his mouth.

Blood.

So this was dying, Ætharr thought. He felt frightened for a brief moment, but he suddenly felt relieved. He had his axe in paw.

Looking down, he saw his long-handled axe in the sand. He wanted to get it, but he didn't trust his legs. It was a miracle that he was still standing.

He looked back at Judos. The otter winced at his own wounds as he stumbled for the axe.

The weasel nodded as the otter offered him the axe. It served as a good staff to support himself on. Funny that he would use his axe like that now.

The mild humour left Ætharr as he thought of all he was losing. Calador would suffer now that the Ealdor was dying. His children were still young, and the ambitious would want to get a hold of the riches of Calador.

Thinking of that, Ætharr suddenly remembered his father, his death arranged by a treacherous brother, who took the throne for himself. He had let in the Millars, had exiled his own son, and had started Ætharr on the path to form an alliance with the Vireo, the Jeri, the Falcarragh, even the remnants of the Hunan.

Ætharr thought of all those people who he had met on that journey. He thought of Nero, Ibos, Blackback, Coldbane, Aletorix, Leofer, Redjaw, Blackaxe, Rojo, Luther Pelopidas, Klinus, Oorlog, Tiarnan, Cocoran, Judos. And Rosheen.

Dear and beloved Rosheen, Ætharr thought suddenly, please forgive me. Thinking of her, he wanted to weep. He was leaving her, and their remaining children. Leaving them to die here, far away at Salamandastron. What would they think of him?

But they will see me again, Ætharr realized. We shall meet in the Great Hall. Rosheen and I will be young again, our children will be tall and proud, and we shall see our ancestors. No more pain, just an eternal bliss after the hardships of life. We shall be happy.

The Ealdor felt himself slide. His strength was leaving him, and he sunk to his knees. With effort, he looked into the sinking sun. It was red.

The red sun. Blood was spilled. And this time, it was Ætharr's blood.

At death's door, he had to be sure. He turned back to Judos, who was oblivious of his own wounds, staring at the dying Ealdor.

He gave a nod, "Farewell, Judos. Fulfill your task if you are still my friend."

Tears suddenly ran down the otter's cheeks as he shakily returned the nod, "Die in peace, Ætharr. We were always friends."

The irony of the statement suddenly struck Ætharr, and he would have laughed if it wouldn't have hurt so much.

He looked back at the setting sun, thinking of those he'd loved. His family, his friends, his wife, his children. He thought of those he'd hated and killed, and even felt a melancholy for them too. Death seems to forgive all, Ætharr thought fleetingly, for he felt his mind darkening. The sun went out of focus, and he felt his eye lids closing.

With his remaining strength, Ætharr lowered himself down to lie on his back, keeping a tight grip to his axes. With his final breath, he uttered the thought in his head, "At last..."

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A sob nearly escaped Judos as he heard the last breath leave Ætharr's body. The Ealdor, the warrior and leader who had changed so much and had decided the fates of so many lives, had finally relinquished his hold on life. Ætharr was dead.

Judos stumbled forward, and pulled the Sword of Martin from Ætharr's body.

Cheers erupted in scattered groups on his side of the battlefield. The vermin armies were silent. Almost.

From the ranks of the demoralized horde, Ptolemy came forward, followed by Cocoran, Khazdar, Craterus, Gyras, and King Blackaxe. All of them wept as they approached.

Judos wept with them, but in the back of his mind, he suddenly feared their approach. Would they seek to avenge the Ealdor's death in their grief?

A yell sounded on the other end, and Judos turned to see the leaders of Salamandastron, Redwall, and the Highlands charge forward, ready to rescue Judos at the sight of these vermin breaking their oaths.

Judos knew better, however. He waved his arms in warning at the allies to stop. Mystified, they slowed their pace at Judos' request.

Judos turned back to Ptolemy, who approached the body of Ætharr, "It is done."

The weasel slowly nodded, unashamedly crying for his old friend and liege lord. Judos felt fresh tears course down his face.

The six leaders took hold of Ætharr's lifeless body, making sure he held onto his axes even in death. They began a slow march back to their lines.

A seventh joined them. Judos dropped the Sword of Martin in the sand, and squeezed in between Ptolemy and Craterus, helping them carry his friend back.

He heard shouts of surprise from the forces standing by Salamandastron. The leaders again ran forward, calling Judos' name in their shock and bewilderment. Troops were following them from their places around the mountain.

Judos looked at Ptolemy, "Go. You will see me again soon." Ptolemy understood and nodded.

Judos detached himself from the funeral procession and turned to face Skipper, Thornback, Korari, Seahawk, Log a Log, and Adisa.

"What are ye doing?" Skipper stared at Judos. It was almost as if he'd caught Judos trying to run away from Redwall all that time ago. Judos stared bitterly at Skipper, noting for the umpteenth time that so many seasons had passed since those early days.

Thornback was more observant, "You never switched sides did you?"

Judos looked up at the badger, "No. I didn't."

Seahawk grunted in surprise and outrage. Log a Log's eyes were wide in confusion.

Judos looked at them all, "Ætharr prepared everything on his own terms to the very end. And he needed my help one last time."

Thornback sighed and shook his head in disgust.

Skipper still didn't understand, "Judos, you're the Warrior of Redwall! Martin told us of his successor, and ye showed us today that it was true. You slew Ætharr here on the field with Martin's sword!" He picked up the sword and presented it to the younger otter.

Judos paused, gazing at the weapon. It was a symbol of good, the sword of a true knight and warrior. Martin's dreams and values had helped build Redwall, and Redwall welcomed all in its hospitality. The sword promised a future Judos hadn't thought he was made for. But was it the path he was made to do?

He suddenly felt a revulsion, a dark and bitter contempt for it all. Damn Martin. He was long dead, and still sought to domineer and control people's lives. Judos had made a promise to a friend, and that promise meant more to him than a powerful sword in defence of Redwall.

In this rage, he knocked the sword out of Skipper's hands with such force that the weapon fell onto the sand, "I renounce my rights to that sword! I deny Martin the Warrior's call and refuse to return to Redwall!"

All heard that bellow. Even the vermin, in their preparations to leave, paused and looked at the exchange.

Judos called out again, "Whatever anger and disagreement passed between Ætharr and myself is absolved and forgiven!"

Seahawk spluttered in outrage, "This is flippin' preposterous! Someone ought to arrest this traitor!"

Skipper looked as though he'd been stabbed instead of Ætharr, "Judos… nobody has ever refused Martin the Warrior's task. Nobody!"

Judos looked at Skipper, "I am glad to be the first, then!" And suddenly, Judos was reminded of all those times when he'd been made to look foolish and embarrassed. It suddenly seemed as though this was Judos' spiteful revenge come round at last. He felt a twisted satisfaction in his defiant response.

"I no longer recognize Martin the Warrior's authority. And I left Redwall a long time ago. I made an oath to a good friend who I was forced to slay. He wanted to die. He recognized he had gone too far and had caused too much pain. I did what he could ask no one else to do. And now I will do what I promised him before I defected. I will be guardian to his children, I shall help maintain order in Calador, until a child of his shall become Ealdor in his place."

Seahawk stepped forward, looking at Korari and Thornback, "This otter has lost his bloody mind! I say he needs a jolly well teachin' into what he is and what he was meant to do!"

Suddenly Seahawk stopped.

For behind Judos, what remained of the Calador army had organized itself into a new shield wall. Ptolemy, Gyras, and Craterus stood at the head of it, grieving but determined to come to Judos' rescue if necessary. Even now, the soldiers stood proud and tall, so unlike the scurvy hordes that the forces of Redwall and Salamandastron were used to. Next to them, King Blackaxe stood in front of his remaining Jeri, still imposing despite his age. Khazdar and Cocoran stared balefully across the beach, also leading their depleted divisions, determined to resume the fight despite how Ætharr's duel had ended.

A figure came out of the ranks, spoke briefly with the Calador theigns, and walked to where Judos stood. Thornback flinched.

Ben, the mercenary raccoon, stood next to Judos, his heavily notched shillelagh pointed at the ground but looped in the raccoon's paw. There was a white flag of truce in the other, "I've been sent as a neutral messenger. Judos is to be allowed back home according to the oaths you all swore."

"Home?" Skipper protested. He looked at Judos, mouth open.

Thornback stepped forward, "Ben, how can we know Calador will not just come back when they are strong again? How will we know that the Ealdor's children won't return to avenge their father's defeat?"

"Because Judos won't let them." Ben replied, "Judos is their guardian, and as the Ealdor's regent, he will look after Calador, he will calm its troubles and give it peace, as Ætharr tried to do. And Calador _will _have troubles. They'll need wise leaders like Judos to protect their lands, never mind campaigns against Salamandastron."

It was a well thought out idea, Judos couldn't help but think. Ætharr had always been shrewd, and this decision truly was the best way to end the conflict safely for Calador, even if it meant the death of the Ealdor. The throne would be maintained by a wise and level-headed warrior who preferred peace to war, and Ætharr's children would absorb his lessons. They will know that dying at Judos' paw had been their father's plan, and if Judos was fortunate, they would understand and forgive him. And even if they didn't, their quarrel was not with Salamandastron or Redwall or anyone outside of Calador. There would be no massive armies marching out to take familial revenge. It was a chance for Calador to try and maintain the great wealth and power that Ætharr had given it. For Ætharr knew that despite the power of his alliances, their losses at Salamandastron had been grievous, and other vermin clans would rise and challenge the weakened Caladors.

Thornback looked from Ben to Judos, before turning to his brother, "It seems that letting him go is the right thing to do."

Seahawk peered at Thornback, "What do you mean there, sah?"

Thornback nodded at Ben, "This is someone I can trust with my life. If he says this, then it is so. Judos will go back and rule in the weasel's place." The badger spoke that last sentence sourly, doubtlessly remembering the horrid death of his elder brother.

Seahawk frowned, "Still find it deuced odd to just let an army of these vermin walk off."

Ben glanced mockingly at the old hare, "I find it odd that a whole population of hares let one corrupt Badger Lord take things as far as he did."

Seahawk gave a withering stare at the raccoon, but said nothing. Korari stepped forward in anger, but made no further movement at a glance from Thornback.

Judos looked at Ben, "Are you coming with us?"

Ben shook his head, "I don't think so. Ætharr gave me my final pay before the duel, so now I'm off to find new places to set foot in." Judos noticed for the first time that Ben had all his belongings on his back.

The otter turned to the others, "Goodbye." He focused on the Redwallers, "Someday there will be another who is worthy to be Abbey Warrior. And then maybe they will choose to take up that life." Ignoring Skipper's final look of anger, Judos then turned to rejoin the Calador army. To head back to the home he'd found in the most unlikely of places.

Ben watched the Caladors break camp and head off after their allies, before glancing at Thornback, "I suppose we both have a lot to tell each other."

Thornback nodded, looking apprehensive, "Yes, Ben, we do. But I don't think Salamandastron will appreciate your presence considering your recent company."

Ben smiled, "I've fought every kind of army imaginable. I've had friends on both sides of a battlefield. I've killed many creatures. But I've never killed a true friend, nor will I ever."

Thornback, despite knowing that Ben had been with the enemy, smiled at the raccoon, "I'm glad that I'm still your friend. But where will you go now?"

Ben shrugged, "I'm not welcome here, nor am I interested in Calador anymore, so I guess I'll head south for now. Warmer climate, easy living, might just carve a little corner of this world out for myself somewhere."

Thornback clasped the raccoon's paw, "Well good luck, then. And may the seasons smile on you, Ben."

Ben hefted his shillelagh, "And to you as well, Thornback."

With that, the raccoon began heading south, never to be seen by any Salamandastron hare or Calador weasel again. Though Thornback, growing old in the Highlands long after, would often think of his old friend, wondering what new adventures the shillelagh-wielding raccoon had come across. Though he never saw or heard from him again, Thornback would always hope that Ben eventually found the peace that he was looking for.

**Epilogue**

It was a tragic homecoming for all in Calador. Cocoran and Judos took it upon themselves to tell Rosheen of Ætharr's death. The depth of her anguish drove the two of them to fresh tears. Rosheen said she herself would tell the children. Judos did not stay to watch their reactions.

The funeral pyre of Ætharr was a massive one. Funeral pyres were being built all around Calador, for all the soldiers that had been slain. Most never made it back home at all, but there were still more than enough pyres to be made.

The Ealdor's was a spectacle to see. The solemnity of the moment was almost suffocating. Judos, as the new guardian to Ætharr's children, stood by Rosheen in a place of honour. Some darkly hinted at the otter's involvement in Ætharr's death, but those few were silenced. It had been intended by Ætharr to be this way.

Nuala, Ædelmær, and Lorcan wept openly as their father was honoured by the leaders of Calador, Hunan, Jeri, and Falcarragh. Gifts of condolence were offered to Ætharr's family. Calador tradition maintained that a father's pyre must be lit by his children, and so three torches were brought forward. Judos watched sadly as Ætharr's children went forward to send their father to the Great Hall to wait for them.

It was remarkable, Judos thought, that the one most responsible for all this grief was himself given the most grief of all.

Even after the most solemn events were done with, the pyre burned on. Some speculated that it would take three days to burn out.

On the second day, Judos went back to see it for himself, and was surprised to find Ptolemy standing there as well.

The weasel gazed sadly upon his former friend's pyre, but acknowledged Judos' presence.

Judos sighed, "Ætharr was truly clever even to the end. He arranged for me to kill him, and then left a will revealing his plans to the theigns just afterwards." That was why nobody had branded Judos a traitor, nor why the children had tried to avenge their father. Judos had approached them fearfully, wondering what their reaction would be. All four creatures were grieving for the death of the Ealdor, but one of them had been responsible for the Ealdor's death.

However, Judos had been surprised. Ædelmær, who had always respected his uncle Judos, stepped forward and spoke without any malice in his tone, "I'll never agree with what you were forced to do, but I understand why it was done. I will honour my father's wishes and try to forgive." Nuala and Lorcan had no words to say, merely nodding in their agreement with their brother.

Judos was overcome with emotion at this response from the young weasels, and his response was genuine, "I'm sorry that it had to end the way it did. I wish he were still here." For even after everything, Judos truly wished that things had been different. He did not mourn Ætharr dishonestly. It had hurt him to carry out that task of killing his best friend, even if it was what his best friend had wanted.

Judos had also feared Rosheen's reaction. She had said little on the matter, and had agreed that it had been as Ætharr wanted, but there had been a flash of anger in her eyes so brief that only Judos saw it. He doubted either of them would ever completely come to terms with what had happened. But as it was said now in Calador, the enemy had not been able to kill Ætharr. It had been his choice, and from the viewpoint of Calador, it seemed as though this was a subtle victory snatched from the bloody stalemate.

As Judos and Ptolemy watched the funeral pyre of their friend burn, Ptolemy brought up a question, "I've been thinking about this for a while, yet I can't think of a good answer. If Ætharr had arranged this death for himself, why did he try so hard to kill you?"

"Because even when he sought to stop himself, he was proud of his legacy," Judos explained after a moment of thought, "He wanted to be remembered for the great warrior that he had been, and so even if he was meaning to die, he wanted to be bested in a fight through honest combat. But he knew that I would be able to kill him, even if I wasn't sure if I could."

"And you were the only one amongst his surviving friends that would be able to fool everyone," Ptolemy commented, "If an otter turned back to the side of Redwall against his former friend, none would doubt the repentance until it was too late. Ætharr will forever be known as the one whom the enemy could not slay."

"I don't think any honour would please him more," said Judos, even as he thought of the irony in how it had been those around Ætharr who had been slain by the enemy because of their association with him.

After a pause, the weasel spoke again, "He actually told us what was going on just before he went to fight you, and we began spreading the word as you two were fighting. It was unbelievable, what Ætharr organized. And yet it worked."

Judos nodded, "I wonder whether I'll be listed as a hero or a coward at Redwall. I slew the most powerful vermin warrior who ever lived, but I rejected Martin the Warrior's call to go home."

Ptolemy put a comforting paw on Judos' shoulder, "Calador is your home. You chose to be here, and you will be welcome here till your dying day."

Judos nodded, "That's the most assuring thing I've heard since we left for Salamandastron." It seemed so long ago now, when the magnificent yet terrifying horde had marched out from the vermin lands, driven by one ruler's tainted and tortured soul.

Ptolemy looked at Judos just then, "Ædelmær was here earlier."

"Was he?' Judos asked. The third son of Ætharr had seemed physically weak as a child, but there was a hard toughness in his sinews, and his intelligence had always impressed Judos. Somehow he had always seen that the true heir to the throne was not the first born Ædron, or the physically powerful Lorcan, but Ædelmær. Maybe his father had seen it too, but Judos couldn't be sure.

"He's taking it hard,' Ptolemy remarked.

Judos nodded, "We all are." But he was not just thinking of Ædelmær's grief for his father. More war was on the horizon. The alliances had been splintered so that only four tribes were left. The Calador, Falcarragh, Hunan, and the Jeri were all weakened from Ætharr's last campaign. The exiled enemy tribes, along with other marauders seeking plunder, were said to be drawing nigh like vultures to a corpse.

But, Judos allowed, the alliance was intact. The defences were there, and it would be a long time before the tribes would march out to spread war. They would, instead, stand like islands in the sea, defending each other and holding their own as waves crashed down upon them, if only to allow for peace within their lands. The desire for conquest had been burned out, and now there was an urge to do away with empire or plunder. Judos considered this a great improvement.

"What are you thinking about?" Ptolemy asked.

"I was thinking of how Ætharr tried to give us peace through war, but it could only succeed with his death."

Ptolemy smiled wanly, "The bane of Ætharr. He was fated to be the master of war, but not peace."

Judos looked up, "You think that was his bane?"

Ptolemy shrugged, "When we were still at Salamandastron, I heard someone say to his companion that Ætharr had no bane. He was himself a bane to those who knew him. Look at his son, murdered, his family left behind with his death, and the countless soldiers he slew. 'Has anyone benefited from knowing him?', he asked. Nobody answered him." Ptolemy placed a paw over his heart, "I can say that I am honoured to have been his friend."

Judos smiled, "So am I. I would likely be dead if it wasn't for him. And his family will recover in peace. Rosheen is strong in spirit, and she will have all of us here to help her. Her children will grow up, and Ædelmær will become Ealdor."

Ptolemy looked surprised, and turned his head towards Judos, "What?"

Judos regretted his impulse to say those last five words, but he had to explain himself now, "Lorcan and Nuala do not want the Ealdorship. Any more than Ædall wanted it. Lorcan and Nuala both see the dark temptations of power and are repulsed. Ædelmær is different. He sees those temptations but he does not fear them. He sees them and prepares to defeat them. Just like his father sought to do. The difference is that Ædelmær is not going to be crippled with grief or dark ambitions. He alone is fit to rule Calador, and give it the peace that his father failed to give."

Ptolemy lifted his head and smelled the air, "It's been a long time since Calador had a genuine peace. What does one do in peacetime, Judos?"

Judos paused, wondering, and finally gave an answer, "We follow our personal interests, we write histories and novels, we find ourselves, we raise families, we tend the land we own. When war comes to threaten our peace, we defend ourselves as fiercely as we can. And at the end of it all, as our own lives end, we say goodbye to life. And those who knew war and formed bonds with brothers-in-arms shall hold onto their weapons so that they can enter the Great Hall and be with those departed again. One day you and I shall go there too. And Ætharr will be waiting for us all, noble and privileged at the table of his fathers, recalling us to his side. And we, being his friends, will honour him, because for better or worse, he was the greatest Ealdor that has yet lived. And for ages onward, folk will remember us, but before anyone else, they shall speak of Ætharr of Calador."

**The End**


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